The Push
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This is my entry to CastleFicathon2017. It is AU and begins during the opening of Rise when Josh shoves Castle. In this version, Castle is injured, changing the trajectory of events. This is independent of my other stories.
1. Chapter 1

The Push

Chapter 1

"This is your fault," Josh shouted, shoving Castle against the hard wall of the hospital corridor. Rick's head hit with a sickening crack.

"Dad!" Alexis screamed as Castle slumped to the floor.

Martha turned on Josh. "What the hell did you do?"

Josh looked down in confusion. "I don't know. I didn't mean... I'll get some help." Josh took off at a run as Martha and Alexis bent over Castle.

Jim Beckett sank into a chair with his face in his hands. Footsteps clattered in the hallway as a gurney was rushed toward Castle. A doctor shined a light in Castle's eyes. "Pupils uneven. We need someone from neuro." Alexis and Martha followed the gurney as it was rolled away.

"Mr. Beckett?" a doctor inquired several minutes later. Jim rose unsteadily to his feet. "We removed a bullet from your daughter's chest. Her condition is critical. We'll know more within the next 24 hours. She's been taken to ICU. When she's settled, I'll have someone take you up there, but until she's more stable you'll only be able to see her for a few minutes at a time."

Jim nodded. "Thank you. I understand."

* * *

Though chief of surgery Cousins was standing behind his desk, Josh Davidson still topped him by eight inches, but it was clear where the power was. "What the hell were you thinking, Josh? Attacking someone in the halls of the hospital? It was witnessed by several members of the N.Y.P.D. and a report has already been filed. There's no way we can keep this in-house. Damn! We'll be lucky if the Castle family doesn't file suit. There's no way we can defend one."

"So what are you going to do" Josh asked.

Cousins leaned against his desk and shook his head. I'm going to have to suspend you, Josh. I have no choice. You'll have a hearing with the Board, but it's more than likely they'll vote to fire you, to minimize the hospital's liability. If there are criminal charges, your firing is guaranteed. If I were you, I'd do my best to make peace with the Castle family. His mother is not going to let this pass. Neither is his firebrand of a daughter. Neither one of them is even willing to leave the hospital until Richard Castle wakes up, and Kitchner in Neuro isn't sure when that's going to happen. The steady stream of police and even a medical examiner that's been here for Detective Beckett, has been in and out of Castle's room as well. If you don't do something about it, this whole matter is just going to get messier with every minute that goes by."

* * *

Castle's eyelids fluttered. "Kate!"

"Go get the doctor!" Martha instructed Alexis. "Kate's alive, Richard. She's stable now. The doctors think she's going to be all right. We've all been worried about you."

"What happened?" Castle asked. "Did I get shot too? No. I remember telling Kate that I loved her, and then we were in the ambulance. Her heart stopped and Lanie was doing CPR. Her hands were covered with blood. After that I don't remember anything."

"Yes, the doctors said you might have some short term memory loss. Kate's motorcycle thug boyfriend threw you against a wall. You've been unconscious since. It's been two days."

"I need to see Kate," Castle insisted.

"Yes, well, we'll see what the doctor has to say about that."

* * *

"Javi, are you telling me that Josh threw Castle against a wall and Castle was unconscious for two days?" Kate demanded.

"That's what happened," Ryan confirmed from behind his partner.

"Where's Josh?" Kate asked.

"The hospital issued a statement that he's on suspension, while what he did is being investigated. But there's really nothing to investigate, Kate. Castle doesn't remember, but," Javi looked back at Ryan who nodded in agreement, "we all saw him do it. Yesterday, Josh tried to make nicey nicey with Martha and Alexis, but they both looked like they wanted to kill him. One of the big ass doctors was there and got them to calm down. Josh said something about going back to Haiti."

"I can't believe Josh did that," Kate exclaimed. "Castle tried to save my life. If it hadn't been for him, I might have taken another bullet, and he told me..."

"Told you what?" Javi prodded.

"Never mind," Kate replied. "That's something Castle and I need to talk about."

"You should get your chance," Ryan interjected. "I heard him trying to talk the doctor into letting him come down here." An aide wheeled Castle through the door into the ward where Kate had been moved from ICU. "Speak of the devil."

Castle looked around. "What the hell, Kate? Not even a private room?"

Ryan shook his head. "N.Y.P.D. health plan, Bro, the bean counters always go for the cheapest of everything. I'm surprised the gold on the badges doesn't turn green."

"The bean counters aren't going to make this call," Castle declared. "Kate almost died at Montgomery's funeral. She deserves better than this. I know a guy."

Kate's pale face brightened. "I'm sure you do, Castle. But I'm fine here, really." She reached out and brushed his temple with her fingertips. "How are you?"

"Other than having the mother of all headaches and not being able to remember anything after I was with you in the ambulance, fine," Castle replied.

"But you remember what happened before that?" Kate questioned.

Castle reached for her hand. "I think you could decapitate me and I'd still remember that." Kate looked up at Ryan and Esposito. "Could you guys excuse us for a while?"

Ryan pulled at Esposito's sleeve. "Um yeah, we've got the case to work on."

"Right, the case," Esposito agreed, as they backed toward the door.

Kate turned to the aide behind Castle's chair. "Could you excuse us for a few minutes, too?"

"I'll be right outside," She told Castle. "Five minutes. You know the doctor didn't want you down here very long."

"I know," Castle acknowledged, muttering "Nurse Cratchit," under his breath.

"You sure you're okay, Castle?" Kate asked. "Didn't sound like it."

"Says the woman who just had a bullet nick her heart. Don't worry about it. They're just afraid I'm going to sue the hospital. They want to make sure nothing else happens to me. So what did you want to talk about?"

"I think you know, Castle."

"When I told you I loved you." Castle let out a breath. "Kate, that particular thunderbolt hit me when you walked up to me in my book party and flashed your badge. But you acted like you couldn't wait to get rid of me, and then there was Tom, and then Josh, and I tried so hard to keep you from getting yourself killed, and you threw me out. I couldn't say anything - until I thought I was out of time."

"And until I thought I was out of time, I wasn't ready to hear it," Kate replied. "So what do we do now?"

"You wanna go steady? We could exchange hospital bracelets," Castle suggested.

Kate would have laughed if the pain in her chest had allowed it. She settled for a smile. "I guess we'll just have to figure it out as we go."

Castle pressed a kiss into her palm. "I can live with that."


	2. Chapter 2

The Push

Chapter 2

Flanked by Alexis and Martha, Castle walked gingerly through the door of the loft. "Good to be home, Darling?" Martha asked.

"Smells better than the hospital," Castle noted. "I think that's why patients really enjoy flowers, the fragrance covers up the bracing aroma of disinfectant. I want to make sure everything's ready when Kate comes."

"Now you let us take care of that," Martha counseled. "or at least let me supervise the housekeeper. You're supposed to be taking it easy until those attacks of vertigo subside."

"Mother," Castle argued, "they're no worse than a bad hangover."

"If you're talking about coming off a six month bender, perhaps," Martha declared. "I watched your last one, Richard. You couldn't even keep yourself upright and what you brought up looked like everything you'd eaten for the last month."

"Gram," Alexis reproved.

"Well it did," Martha insisted. "The doctor said the effects of the concussion could last for weeks, maybe longer. I'd like to do something to that Davidson fellow that he'd feel for a long time. I wish you'd agreed to press charges."

"Mother, he'd just had Kate's blood pouring out all over him. In his surgical booties, I might have tried to do the same thing. Anyway, Kate and I are together now, so Josh doesn't matter anymore."

Where are you planning on putting your new lady-love while she recovers?" Martha questioned. "She just had heart surgery, she can't climb the stairs. Not your room. Hanky-panky isn't a good idea for either of you right now."

"I thought we'd get one of those stair elevator things put in," Castle announce, "at least until Kate and I are ready for more propinquity. I checked it out, online. I can get one installed tomorrow, if I pay the up charge - ooh, I like that, up charge. Then Kate can be safe and secure in the guest room."

Alexis stared up at her father, the mild blue of her eyes stormily deepening. "What makes you think she'll be safe and secure anywhere, Dad, or that any of us will? Someone tried to shoot her. Whoever it is could come here and try again."

"The loft has a great alarm system. Ryan and Esposito put a security detail outside. And there's something else. A man came to see me in the hospital. He was a friend of Montgomery's. He has some dirt Montgomery sent him, that he used to bargain with the dick behind Johanna Beckett's death. Kate will be safe, as long as she isn't poking around in her mother's death. For the few months, while she's getting well, that shouldn't be a problem. Then after that, I'll just have to figure out how to deal with it." Castle pulled Alexis against his side and kissed the top of her head. "Nothing bad is going to happen here. If I have to hire a squad of commandos, I'll keep everyone in this loft safe."

* * *

Javi hefted the gun that had been found at the cemetery. "No fingerprints, no DNA, no fibers, the man is good, Bro. This is a first class weapon, too."

"Well if he's that good," Ryan pointed out, "then Beckett should be dead."

"She probably would have been, if Castle hadn't yelled and tackled her. Our sniper couldn't get off a second shot. But you do have a point," Esposito acknowledged, "he shouldn't have needed one. I wouldn't have."

"So what does that tell us?" Ryan wondered.

"That he's been away from the game," Esposito surmised. "If he's ex-military, he hasn't been in the field for a while. Discharged a couple of years ago, maybe."

"Dishonorably discharged?" Ryan suggested. "If he's legit, why work as a hit man? He could have gone into law enforcement or private security, or even become a merc."

"You may have something there," Esposito agreed. "I have a buddy who can check dishonorables for snipers within the last few years. We can see what pokes out of the slime pile."

The phone rang on Ryan's desk. He listened for a moment before muttering his thanks. "That was Sarge Finchley. He says the new captain is on her way up here, Victoria Gates from IA."

Esposito snorted. "IA, huh. Damn! She'll be sticking her nose into everything. That's all we need."

"Maybe she'll just stick with paperwork," Ryan hoped. "Let's just worry about tracking down Kate's shooter before he tries it again. Call your friend."

* * *

Jim Beckett's lips tightened in a hard line. "You're sure you want to stay with Rick? You need a chance to heal. You'd get a lot more rest at my cabin."

"I'm sure, Dad. I'm going to be on disability for three months. I'll be resting way too much. I'd go crazy staying away from the case that long. I need to stay on top of the investigation. I can't do that from your cabin."

"Just promise me that you'll take care of yourself," Jim Beckett insisted. "I've already lost … too much. I don't know how I'd deal with losing you."

Kate reached out to touch her father's hand. "Dad, I'm going to be fine."

* * *

Josh was relieved but troubled. With Castle declining to press charges, the Board had decided to keep him on, but there was still more than two months to run on his suspension. He couldn't just sit around that long. He'd considered returning to Haiti, but he wanted something more long term. Kate was with Castle now. She'd told him calmly, and as kindly as she could, but he could see the telltale signs of anger in her face. They might still exchange an email now and then, but there was little chance of any real relationship with her, even a friendship. He didn't want a friendship anyway. Kate Beckett had some incredible talents. He had enjoyed them and she'd appeared to derive pleasure from sharing them, but now he expected they'd be shared elsewhere. He couldn't understand what she saw in Castle. He knew it wasn't the money. If Kate had cared about that, she would have gone after someone with a nice Park Avenue practice, not a doctor who'd barely paid off his school loans. Whatever it was, it had been evident long before the shooting. In the precinct, even when she'd been in his arms, her eyes had wandered to Castle. Then there was the complete collection of the works of Richard Castle, in her apartment, and her membership on Castle's website. Their pairing had been inevitable. The fact that Castle had suffered injury at the hands of a surgeon who should have been able to control his anger, had only moved the process along. He would try to be happy for Kate. Clearly she had what she wanted, and maybe even what she needed. He just didn't want to watch.

That morning he'd received a call from the Indigenous Peoples Project. As loggers had laid bare the Amazon Rain Forrest, sickness had swept through the populace. Many of the natural remedies, used for generations by local healers, had vanished in the destruction of the natural habitat. The local tribes were helpless against the ravages of disease. Doctors were needed to set up clinics. The irony was that many of the doctors' medicines had been derived from the flora that was disappearing. Serving people that desperately in need of aid, would be productive and rewarding. And he'd be too busy to think about Kate Beckett. He pulled out his phone to make arrangements for his new mission.


	3. Chapter 3

The Push

Chapter 3

Kate's trained eyes couldn't miss the security detail outside the building that housed Castle's loft. She wasn't surprised. There had been a guard posted outside her hospital room, and until her shooter was found, she was considered to be at risk. She had tried to keep up with the investigation, but Ryan had informed her that the new captain had demanded that Kate be kept out of the loop. To make his point, Ryan had performed a falsetto imitation of Iron Gates declaring that there would be no vendettas in her precinct. Kate hadn't met Captain Gates, but she could understand her logic. She didn't agree with it, but she knew the captain was a stickler for following regulations, something Montgomery had never been. When she finally did return to the Twelfth Precinct, things would be different, but it would be months before she would be able to find out how much.

With Castle on one side and her father on the other, she slowly made her way through the lobby of 595 Broome Street, into the elevator and to the door of Castle's loft. Martha appeared on the threshold. "Katherine, Darling, come in. come in! Alexis and I have had a great deal to do. Richard insisted that everything be perfect for your arrival."

Castle gave his mother a dirty look, which she completely ignored.

Kate brushed Rick's hand. "It's all right, Castle. That's very sweet."

"And Jim," Martha continued, nodding at her granddaughter, "Alexis made coffee. I'm sure you can use some. I have a high nutrition juice fusion for these two, while they're still in recovery."

Kate raised her eyebrows at Rick. "You said you were fine."

Castle shrugged. "A few aftereffects. Nothing to worry about. No one put a bullet in my chest."

"No, just a dent in your hard head," Martha interjected, "but come, we're set up at the table."

Rick and Kate simultaneously breathed in the rich scent, and looked longingly at the coffee that Alexis poured. Castle raised his goblet of murky fluid and clinked glasses with Kate. "To a swift, a very swift recovery."

* * *

Under a blanket on the couch, Kate scribbled over everything she'd written on her legal pad. "What's wrong?" Castle asked.

Kate tore off a page, tossing it to the floor. "Nothing I can come up with about my shooting makes sense! Montgomery told me he'd make sure that everything would be over. Before he died, he managed to kill all those thugs. Who would come after me at his funeral?" Castle coughed heavily. "Are you all right Rick?"

"Yes - no." Castle cleared his throat and wiped his palms against his pants. "Look Kate, a man, a friend of Montgomery's came to see me in the hospital. He said he'd received a package from Montgomery. It contained evidence that could be used to bring down the man who ordered the hit on your mother - and you. But he didn't get it until after you'd been shot. The man told me he'd struck a deal with the murderous bastard, that he wouldn't publicly release what he had, as long as you were left unharmed. There was only one condition. You had to stop looking into your mother's murder."

"And who is supposed to stop me?" Kate questioned.

"I am," Castle confessed. "And I thought, while you were recovering, I wouldn't have to do anything about it. I could cope with the problem when the time came. And since you'd be here with me, I wanted to protect Alexis and Mother too. But Kate, I've realized that I could no more keep you away from the case, than I could stop a hurricane with an umbrella. So I'm asking you, if you're going to get involved with the investigation, do it quietly. Don't put yourself out there. Let Ryan and Espo front it. From what they've told me about the new captain, that will go over better with her, too."

Kate chewed her lip and shoved her hair behind her ear. "Castle, I don't give a damn about what the new captain thinks. She can fire me, for all I care. But I'm not about to put Alexis, Martha, or you, in the line of fire. So I'll keep my part in the investigation under wraps, at least for now. I did for years anyway. But I need to find out what that man who claimed to be Montgomery's friend knows. For all we know, the whole story could have been a sham. He might be working for the man behind my mother's murder. Hell, he might be the man behind my mother's murder. Who is he? What's his name?"

Castle shook his head. "I don't know, Kate. He wouldn't give me a name. He stood in the darkest corner of the room, away from the window, and my vision was still blurry. I can just tell you that he was tall, and had a distinctive voice. I'd recognize it if I heard it again. He was older. It sounded like he and Montgomery might have been contemporaries. And he said Montgomery had saved his life."

"Well if that's true, there's a good chance Evelyn might know who he is. I need to go see her."

"Kate, you're not going to see anyone, not right now," Castle insisted. "You can barely walk across the room. And Evelyn is grieving. The boys said she didn't even want to be in her house for a while. She took the kids and went to stay with her mother. You both need some time to heal. Let Kevin, Javi, and the large segment of the N.Y.P.D. working on your shooting, go after whatever leads they have. Maybe they'll find the guy, and we won't need to worry about my mysterious visitor. And there's another possible trail. The boys can't go near it without tipping off Gates to Montgomery's involvement. But we can follow it from here."

"What trail, Castle?"

"Montgomery, Raglan, and McAllister shook down a lot of bad guys, made a lot of cash. They had to put it somewhere. Then they had to pay whomever hired your shooter. I figure there must be bank records. Raglan's and McAllister's stuff is in evidence. I bet Espo would be willing to check it out and bring it to us. We could follow the money and see where it leads."

"At least that's something, Castle. Are you going to call Javi and ask him?"

"Kate, I think it would be better if you called him. He's about as loyal to you as a colleague -or a puppy - can get."

Kate started to laugh, before putting a hand on the tightness that still bound her chest. "Why Mr. Castle, do I detect a streak of jealousy?

"Maybe," Castle conceded. "I always wondered if you two had ever..."

"Castle, I never slept with Javi, unless you count falling asleep in the same car on a stakeout. We've just spent a lot of years having each other's backs. It's second nature, you know. People who work together like that get close. I mean, look at him and Ryan."

"I don't think they swing that way, although when I first met them, I wondered if they would be picking out curtains together someday. Ryan, is so in love with Jenny, he'll even wear those eyeball busting ties she buys for him. And Javi does lust after very female strippers. But anyway, nice to know his attachment to you is purely based on camaraderie in the trenches. So by all means call him, but wait until he's out of the precinct and call his private cell phone. The walls may have ears besides those of the creaky Captain Gates.

"Don't worry, Castle," Kate promised. "I'll be careful."


	4. Chapter 4

The Push

Chapter 4

The room started to tilt as Castle sat up in bed, and he barely made it to the bathroom. After a night's sleep, there was almost nothing in his stomach, but that didn't stop it from trying to empty itself. When the motion of the bathroom stilled, he wiped the sweat off his face and brushed his teeth. As he returned to his bedroom, Kate was standing on the threshold. "Are you all right Castle?"

"I still get some vertigo sometimes when I'm lying in certain positions," Castle admitted. "It passes. I'll be fine."

"How long is this supposed to go on?" Kate asked.

"The doctor doesn't know, couple of weeks, couple of months."

"Oh Castle, I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am that I wasn't fast enough to keep you from getting shot."

"Castle, Montgomery's funeral was full of cops. That wasn't your job. If anyone should have realized a shooter was out there, it was me. After what Montgomery did, taking down all those men, I just didn't believe it would happen."

"That's all in the past now," Castle assured her. "Is Espo bringing the banking records here today?"

"He said he's coming over on his lunch hour."

"That gives us a chance to have a culinary delight for breakfast, and kick back this morning. Feel like a _Temptation Lane_ marathon? I had Alexis make sure they were recorded. I didn't tell her they were for you."

"That was very thoughtful, Castle. You really want to make breakfast after...?"

"I like cooking for you. And you're welcome."

Kate leaned against Castle on the couch as the soapy scenes unfolded. "I must admit, when I wrote that scene for _Temptation Lane_ , to force a confession from a shamelessly plagiarizing intern, I was impressed by how fast their writers crank out the stories," Castle confided. "Although now that I can't procrastinate by following you around all day, I am committing a lot more words to the page. I've completely reworked my plan for my new book, actually more like scrapped it entirely. The relationship between Heat and Rook is going in a whole new direction."

"Hmm," Kate said, "I wonder why you'd do a thing like that." She turned to him with a grin. "I don't suppose Heat and Rook have moved in together."

Castle wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe. Perhaps when I finish my first draft, I'll let you read it, that is if it won't be too much strain on your bullet battered heart."

Kate reached up to brush the hair off his forehead. "How is your battered head?"

"The room is remaining still, if you don't count the rotation of the Earth, our revolution around the sun and the flight of our galaxy through the universe."

"I had no idea you were a science nerd, Castle."

"It ties into all my other nerdishness. It is difficult to understand science fiction without knowing something about the science behind it, or in many cases, the science that isn't behind it. I was a creative writing major in college, but I took AP Physics in high school and paid attention during all my weekend trips to the museum with Alexis. With all the research I do for my books, I pick up a lot." The theme music came up, as the episode of _Temptation_ _Lane_ ended. Castle consulted his watch. "Espo is due to show up soon. If he's giving up his lunch hour for this, the least we can do is feed the man."

"I don't suppose you have a double jalapeno pizza on the way," Kate inquired.

"No," Castle admitted, "I couldn't quite stomach that. But I have a freezer full of steak. Two bad Ryan isn't coming. I think Espo likes to eat it in front of him, just to watch him suffer. Jenny is on another health kick. No red meat. Anyway it's something he can get his teeth into. I can throw some on the grill."

"Oh that's right, you have one of those fancy stoves with the built in grill."

An absolute must for the New Yorker with no back yard in which to craft grill-marked delights for the carnivorous crowd," Castle declared.

"Castle I think you may have missed your calling. Maybe you should have been a chef."

Castle shook his head. "You've tasted Mother's attempts at meals. I learned to cook in self defense. And then bringing up Alexis by myself, I had to feed her. When mother moved in, I had to feed her too. But I can't imagine being anything except a writer, except for playing detective, and the N.Y.P.D. still won't even let me carry a gun."

"You'll probably get even less cooperation on that score from Captain Gates than you got from Roy Montgomery," Kate guessed. "Look if you're planning on steaks, go ahead and put them on. I'll let Esposito in when he shows up."

"Deal," Castle agreed.

Esposito tried his hardest to not let the strain of carrying two bankers boxes full of files, show on his face. He placed them on the floor near the front door, with a thud."

"Zito!" Castle called from behind the counter. "Grab a stool, for the finest in grilled meat, from the Castle Steak House and Rehab Facility."

"So, Kate," How's the rehab going?" Esposito asked.

"Slowly," Kate admitted. "But thanks for bringing the records. I could go crazy here with nothing to do."

Esposito studied Beckett and Castle appraisingly, wondering if recuperation was the only thing going on. "Nothing to do huh? Well you'll have more than enough now. I dug up all the bank transactions we have on record for both Raglan and McCallister for three years before and three years after your mother's death."

"Shame we can't get Roy Montgomery's too," Castle observed. "Evelyn might have them, or at least know the name of the bank he used, but for the life of me I can't come up with a story that would justify asking for them when she gets back."

"I'm sure you'll think of something Bro," Esposito assured him. "If there's anyone who can sling the bull, it's you."

"You're about to eat some bull or at least cow, that I've been slinging right now," Castle pointed out. "And some kind of angle may come up on Roy Montgomery. The man behind all this has gone to great pains to cover his tracks. He may not be finished yet."

* * *

Roy Montgomery had been too good a cop for the locks on the doors of his house to be jimmied easily, but Orlando had no trouble smashing a window. The alarm went off, but he didn't care. It would take the cops at least several minutes to arrive, and by that time, he'd be gone. He'd just grab the records and run. He stuffed the laptop computer into his backpack along with the contents of a file drawer and the Montgomery wedding album. He climbed out the window and ran to the alley where he was supposed to make the exchange of an old computer and a pile of worthless paper, for ten grand. It would put him and Marisol on their feet again. At first, he thought he'd been stiffed, then he saw the tall figure emerging from the shadows. "I got what you want, man," Orlando called.

Maddox put a bullet between Orlando's eyes. "Yes, I'm sure you do."


	5. Chapter 5

The Push

Chapter 5

"So someone broke into Montgomery's house?" Kate questioned.

"The same someone who was found dead in an alley," Ryan confirmed.

"Looks like he was part of Los Casadores," Esposito added.

"Why would a gang banger break into Montgomery's place?" Kate wondered. "Do we know what was taken?"

"Evelyn is on her way home now, she'll be able to tell us, but it doesn't look it was related to your shooting." Ryan reported.

Castle put an arm around Kate. "Are you sure about that?"

"No," Ryan admitted, "we're not sure about anything yet."

Esposito threw a questioning look at at Castle, who gently shook his head. "You'll keep us informed right?" Castle asked.

"We will," Ryan agreed, "But we need to check in with precinct now. Gates is really strict about everyone reporting their location, even if it's just at Remy's."

"Pain in the butt!" Esposito snorted.

"But it is regs," Ryan reminded him. "Anyway, we gotta go."

The door closed quickly behind the two cops. "Castle, you let Esposito think we didn't find anything. How about the records in that warehouse?" Kate asked.

"They're gone Kate, remember, the fire? All that work led to a dead end."

"I don't believe it, Castle. Even if the official reports said that fire was an accident, it couldn't have been," Kate insisted. "Someone is lying, big time. You dug up the name of the arson investigator, right?"

"Yeah, Rod Halstead. But I checked him out, Kate. The man's a hero. He's saved children from burning buildings. There's no black mark on his record anywhere."

Kate's eyes hardened. "Then there must be something no one knows about. I need to go talk to him."

"Kate, you're not going anywhere. You're not even supposed to walk a city block yet. You're not supposed to get this stressed out, either. Look, I'll go see him. I've got one of those miniature blue tooth thingies I can put in my ear. You can hear what's going on and talk to me. We'll make it work okay?"

"I guess we'll have to," Kate conceded. "I'm really glad you're such a gadget geek. But are you okay to be running around yourself? I mean this morning you were still..."

Castle cupped her cheek and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll be fine. It doesn't happen when I'm upright. I think I can stay erect. Oops! That didn't come out right."

* * *

Rod Halstead's office at the fire station was filled with awards and family photos. It painted the picture of the perfect public servant and family man. "Too perfect," Castle thought to himself. "Kate could be right. There might be a skeleton in the man's closet somewhere." Castle had been ushered in to see Halstead, just before a call came in and the fire station emptied to fight a blaze. Castle had called after the man, that he'd wait, but hadn't received an answer. The only people left in the station were in the kitchen. If Castle's nose was working accurately, they were making a pot of chili to feed to their hungry brethren upon their return. That gave Castle a clear shot to do a little snooping. He examined the graduation pictures on the wall. Two of Halstead's kids had gone to state schools, manageable, with work, loans, and scholarships. A third had gone to Harvard. Now that was another matter. He could have been on full scholarship, but still, it was something to look into.

Castle noticed an envelope had slipped down between the desk and the wall, and bent to retrieve it. The room swam. "Sonofabitch," he muttered, as he sat on the floor and struggled to keep his breakfast where it belonged.

Kate's voice came through his earpiece. "You okay. Castle?"

"Fine," he managed to respond. The sensation passed, and he pulled himself up, bringing the envelope with him. He examined the contents. There were letters in a childish hand writing. Now that was strange. Halstead only had three kids. At least he had three kids on the record. A grandchild? The numbers didn't work. The man had something in his closet besides F.D.N.Y. t-shirts. Castle snapped pictures of the letters with his phone, sent them to Kate, and returned the envelope back to where it had been. He stiffly settled into a chair, to wait however long it would take to grab a nice friendly, conversation with Mr. Rod Halstead.

* * *

Kate sat up with a start. Resting on the couch, she had never meant to fall asleep. She'd never expected Castle to be gone that long, either. Castle had whispered to her about the letters, then they'd both waited through much of the day, until Halstead returned. His conversation with Castle hadn't been all that enlightening, but then she hadn't expected it to be. Not if he was hiding something. He'd lie. Suspects always lied, and Castle was good, but he was no trained interrogator. That required skills she'd spent years building. She checked her father's watch. Castle should be back any minute. She carefully pushed herself up off the sofa. Alexis would be making dinner, but Castle had been at the fire station during lunchtime. She could at least make him a sandwich or something.

Castle came in as she was scanning the contents of the refrigerator for inspiration. "Jimmy Hoffa's not in there," Castle teased. "Actually, I keep the bodies in the basement. Try the hummus. It's one of the better ways I know to give fresh vegetables the cachet of junk food."

Kate turned to him, sucking air through barely parted lips. "I was going to make you a snack."

Castle closed the refrigerator door and alternately wiggled his eyebrows. "What a titillating thought. Something to look forward to, when the damage to your heart won't be metaphoric. Right now, I think we ought to put our heads together over those letters. If someone managed to trace down Halstead's vulnerable spot, maybe we can trace the tracer. At the least, it would give us some leverage in any future discussions with Halstead.

"You have a point, Castle. There was the name of a school in one of those letters. That would be a good place to start," Kate suggested.

"Mm hm," Castle agreed. "A lot of schools put everything online now, and if they don't, the students do. Sometimes I can't believe the stuff that Alexis' friends post. They'll probably haunt them for the rest of there lives. I keep reminding Alexis not to release too much information."

"This from a man who lives life on "Page Six."

"I don't, Kate. Most of the time when I was out with a model or some ingenue, it was just for PR purposes, to get people to buy books because the guy with his picture in the paper is on the jacket. It was mostly publicity for the ladies too. Sometimes I made a friend and occasionally I got laid, but most of the time we just shared a nice dinner, said goodbye at the end of the night, and that was it. The people I care about the most, my friends, my family, don't end up on "Page Six," except Mother, of course. She glories in it as part of her diva persona. Also she's still trying to get hits on her graydar. The last thing I want is intimate details about me, or especially Alexis, ending up in the public domain."

"That's good to know, Castle. If we're - together, I don't want details of my life popping up everywhere either. I'm willing to let Nikki generate all the heat." Her nose crinkled as her eyes sparkled. "At least to the outside world."

Castle grinned. "Sounds good to me."


	6. Chapter 6

The Push

Chapter 6

"What did the doctor say?" Kate asked, as Martha ushered Castle through the door of the loft.

"Pretty much what he said before," Castle replied. "It's benign post-traumatic vertigo."

"Benign, hah!" Martha exclaimed. "He should see how benign it is for the room to spin every time his head is in the wrong position."

"Anyway," Castle continued, "he gave me some exercises he thought might help. There's a possibility of medication too, but he's holding off because there can be some nasty side effects. He said the condition usually resolves itself within three months."

"Three months?" Kate repeated. "I can go back to work from getting shot in the heart after three months."

Castle shrugged. "We did say we'd rehab together. And you have essentially gone back to work. So have I, not just visiting your firehouse friend, but I've I've been making good progress on the new book. So what did you manage to dig up on the Halstead mystery while I was getting my head examined?"

"I found the school, Castle. It's in Upstate New York, in a rural community. There is a girl registered there who matches the first name on the letters, Jessica Simmons. There was a picture. She doesn't look anything like Halstead, but then I don't look anything like my dad, and Alexis doesn't look much like you, either. There wasn't any other information except for Jessica's soccer statistics. She's not bad. She plays goalie."

"It's a start," Castle noted. "it would help if we could go snoop around in Upstate New York, get into the hall of records."

"Neither one of you is getting behind the wheel of a car," Martha declared, "and I can't take you. I have a play in rehearsal. Kate should still be relaxing, and so should you, Richard."

"It's all right Mother," Castle soothed. "We can stay here. I know a guy. I used him as a consultant on some of the details of the P.I. business, when I was writing early Derrick Storms. He has three ex-wives. He can always use money. I can hire him to go up there and see what he can sniff out. His name is Jensen Addison. Added bonus, you don't know him, Kate. He's unlikely to set off any alarm bells with whomever is behind all this."

"Sounds like a plan, Castle," Kate agreed.

The door flew open and Alexis burst through. "Dad! Guess what? You'll never guess what!"

"The Martians have landed and they want to bring world peace?" Castle ventured.

"Dad, be serious!"

"What could be more serious than world peace?" Castle winced as Alexis lightly punched his chest.

'Marie's family has a chateau in France and I've been invited to spend two weeks there. Isn't that magnifique?"

Fantastique, Sweetheart," Castle returned. "When is this trip supposed to take place?"

"Next week. I have my passport and everything. I can do it. I went to France with only an hour's notice with Mom, remember?"

"How could I forget that?" Castle replied.

"The principal said I could have the time off from school if I write a paper on French culture," Alexis continued. "And I'll get to practice my French, too. Daddy I have to go! Please!"

"Well I want to meet with Marie's parents first. If they check out, sure you can go, Pumpkin."

Alexis threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks Dad! I'll call you every day."

"You'd better!" Castle warned.

Alexis bounced away. "I need to figure out what I want to pack. I don't want to buy anything new here. I'd rather do it in France." She bounded up the stairs.

Kate put a hand on Castle's arm. "Why do I get the feeling you're not as enthusiastic about this as your daughter is?"

"Because you know me. I hate having Alexis where I can't protect her. But assuming Marie's parents don't have a secret criminal past, and I'm going to ask Addison to run a background check on them, as long as I'm hiring him anyway, Alexis might be safer away from here for a while. If whomever is behind your shooting decides we're getting too close, I'll feel better if she's out of the line of fire."

* * *

Jensen Addison looked a bit like Derrick Storm, tall and broad shouldered. It wasn't the best appearance for a P.I.; it drew too much notice. It did, however, also solicit a certain level of cooperation. He'd had little trouble charming the woman in charge of the Hall of Records in Farmingdale. There was a Janice Simmons listed as the owner of a small farm. She'd purchased it ten years before. By Jensen's arithmetic, that would have been shortly after Jessica Simmons was born. Jensen decided to take a trip out to the Simmons property and see what he could turn up.

The Simmons farm was one of many in the area, growing organic vegetables and a variety crops, harvestable at different times of the year. Janice Simmons operated a small roadside stand to hawk some of her produce, as well as maple syrup and apple cider, depending on the season. Both cider and pumpkins were available, making it the perfect time for Jensen to attempt a friendly chat. Janice Simmons was not the most open person Jensen had ever met, although she had enough of a smile to encourage sales. Jensen asked about the varieties of her pumpkins, saying he wanted some to carve with his nieces, and needed to make sure they were of a type that would yield satisfyingly scary results. Janice was willing to share which variety she carved with her daughter, confirming what Jensen already suspected. He was in the right place. Birth and school records were confidential. It would take some doing to dig up more on the Simmons family. While he was at it, he could do the background check Castle, with his usual paranoia about the safety of his family, had requested. Jensen had lost count of how many of Martha Rodgers' paramours Castle had had requested information on. It was a shame that Martha hadn't done so herself, considering how her last ex had ripped her off. Jensen had only failed once, in trying to dig up information on Castle's father. He had not only hit a brick wall, but flashing do not enter signs. Castle had told him that it was fine, that he didn't really need to know, but it had seemed a convenient rationalization. Castle had continued looking out for Martha and Alexis, and Jensen could never blame him for that. He also appreciated the money.

* * *

"Did you find him?" Senator Bracken asked the caller on his secure line.

"Yes sir," Cole Maddox replied smugly. "He's a lawyer, old friend of Montgomery, going back at least thirty years. He was right there in their wedding album. He's a member of a sailing club, and out at sea right now right now, but when he gets back, we'll have a nice little chat. It may not be so nice for him."

"Do whatever you have to. Just find that file," Bracken instructed.

"Count on it," Maddox responded.

* * *

"Esposito leaned over his private cell phone at his desk, while Ryan was answering the call of nature. "Kate, I finally got a look at the security video from the hospital while you and Castle were there. There was a guy like Castle described, in his room for a few minutes. I'm going to try to run him through facial recognition, but I'll have to figure out some way to justify it to Gates as part of the investigation of your shooting. I'll make him a witness from the funeral or something. I really have to be careful about this, but I'll get back to you when I can. You take care of yourself.

"I will, Javi - and thanks."


	7. Chapter 7

The Push

Chapter 7

Jensen Addison screened his car from sight behind a clump a trees, down the road from Janice Simmons' farm. He'd noticed a couple of cars in the area that didn't seem to fit in with the pick-up truck mentality. It was possible that they were visitors or outliers, but he'd felt the little warning at the back of his neck that told him they bore watching. One of them had circled the farm several times since Jensen started his stakeout. Running the plate revealed little. The car was part of a fleet owned by a holding company. That could mean anything, including a vegetable buyer, but somehow Jensen didn't think so. For one thing, the driver seemed to be paying no attention to vegetables. He did pay attention when the school bus pulled up to let Jessica Simmons off. That bit of information was both worth a call to Castle, and further scrutiny. They'd already talked that day, when Jensen had reported that the Durands, parents of Alexis's friend Marie, were neither ax murderers or white slavers, but wine merchants, who traveled regularly between New York and Europe. Castle was not entirely convinced, wondering if the trips might be a cover for some sort of felonious activity. He announced he wanted to know more, and would be quizzing them over dinner.

* * *

Castle gazed longingly at the bottle of wine the Durands had brought. He and Kate had each sipped at half filled glasses, but more alcohol consumption than that, was not recommended for either of them at that point in their recovery. He'd succeeded at keeping Martha out of the kitchen, and with a little help from Kate, had managed to put his best efforts forth toward dinner. Alexis had concern for his eyebrows when he flamed it, but the steak diane was perfect, even if all the alcohol was consumed in the small but dramatic blaze. He'd kept the rest of the meal simple, with tiny multi-color potatoes, sauteed mushrooms and young Brussels sprouts.

"We would be very pleased to have Alexis as a companion for Marie, while we are at our chateau," Solange Durand said. "The two of them have a lot in common, with studying the violin, fencing, and of course, French club."

"We've been working on the Junior U.N. together too," Alexis pointed out.

"I'm sure the girls will enjoy spending time together very much," Castle said. He threw friendly look at Henri Durand. "And what's on your itinerary while you're in France?"

I will be visiting a number of the small wineries in the area near our chateau. There will be several vintages reaching their peak this year. I'll be trying to obtain as many bottles as I can for some of my customers who appreciate the rare and unique. We can also take the girls on a tour of the local vineyards."

"They are really quite beautiful," Solange added.

Kate flashed her most brilliant smile. "I'm sure they are."

* * *

Castle put his phone on speaker when Jensen Addison called, so Kate could hear him as well. "So Castle, here's the easy thing first. I looked further into the Durands, as you requested. They are on the up and up. Except for losing an occasional wine sale, their history is spotless in the US and France. Alexis should be fine with them, but I can have a contact in France watch out for her if you're still concerned."

"I have my own contact in France," Castle replied, "but thank you. So what's the heavy stuff?" Castle queried.

"The Simmons farm is being watched. I haven't noticed any hostile activity, but they are definitely under surveillance."

"So it is possible that someone is keeping Halstead in line by threatening the Simmonses?"

"It's certainly possible," Addison allowed. "I picked up a cup Jessica tossed in the trash outside of her school. If you suspect some sort of familial relationship with Halstead, see if you can get a sample of his DNA. I can have both of them run, and we'll have a better idea of what's going on."

"We may not have to," Kate put in. "I think the DNA of members of the fire department is kept on file, just in case it's necessary to identify a burned body. If so, Lanie will probably be willing to get into the data base for me. I can check it out."

"Do whatever you need to do," Addison advised. "Castle do you want me to stay up in Farmingdale? I'm trying to trace down whoever is watching the Simmons farm, but I can do that as well or better from the city. It will be easier to get Jessica's DNA run there, too."

"Alright, come on back," Castle instructed. "Depending on how things go down here, we may need you."

"So Castle, what are you thinking?" Kate asked, after the call had ended. "And who's your contact in France?"

"I have a consultant that I used for some of the spy scenarios for Derrick Storm. He may be able to make inquiries in some places unavailable to Jensen. I can give him a call at a decent hour in France. What I'm thinking is that Halstead and Janice Simmons may have had the kind of adventure that takes place between the sheets. Jessica was the result of that particular dalliance. Halstead wanted both of them out of sight, so Jessica bought that farm upstate. Most single new mothers need some help with a purchase like that. Firefighters make good money, but they're not exactly flush. He'd also have a hell of a time explaining to his wife where the money went. Maybe whoever is behind your shooting, helped Halstead out, in exchange for future favors. And with with the investigation going on now, they're threatening the kid to make sure Halstead doesn't renege."

"Castle, that is pure speculation. We don't have a shred of evidence of any of that."

"If Lanie comes through, we just might."

Kate nodded. "Yeah, I'll give her a call."

* * *

Smith was enjoying the feeling of the wind on the water. He and Roy Montgomery had always enjoyed fishing together. In a way, that was what started this whole mess. When Smith had been washed overboard in a sudden storm, Roy had risked his own life to save him. He owed Roy. Roy's final wish had been that the debt be paid by protecting Kate Beckett. That was easier said than done. When Roy had made his mistakes as a young cop, Bracken had a limited amount of power. As he'd moved through the Congress and the Senate, it had mushroomed. Smith had no idea where Bracken got his money, but he knew the man had tentacles everywhere. To the best of his knowledge, Bracken didn't know who Smith was or where to find him, but that could change. It was also possible that Castle would be unable to control Kate Beckett, and the deal would fall apart. Smith was safe and out of reach on the open water, but he couldn't stay there much longer. He had business to take care of. He'd just have to hope that Bracken kept up his side of the agreement. If not, he might need a fall back plan, just to save his own ass. He'd start putting one in place as soon as he reached the shore.


	8. Chapter 8

The Push

Chapter 8

Henri Durand was not surprised to receive a call from Paris. He was surprised that it came from Gaston. Even as secure as his cell was, communication with the former operative, if intercepted, could cast doubt on his cover. "Henri, what business do you have with Richard Castle? I received a communication from him, inquiring about you and asking me to monitor the safety of his daughter."

"Oui, I know of his concern for his daughter's safety, but I was unaware of his relationship with you."

"As a favor to a friend, I provided him with deep background for his literary efforts. We forged a friendship of sorts."

"Ah, I suspect I know the identity, or at least one of them, of your friend. He pulled me out of a - difficult situation - some years back. Recently, he asked me to provide a safe haven for Alexis Castle for a time. Richard Castle is, of course, entirely unaware of my true profession or of the existence of the man I assume to be our mutual acquaintance."

"I understand. I have provided Castle with reassurances," Gaston reported. "I hope that they will be merited."

"I assure you they will be," Henri replied. "The angry side of our mutual friend is something neither one of us would ever want to experience."

* * *

Castle couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep, but it had cured his headache. He'd been warned that the tight banding around his skull could recur periodically, as his vertigo did when tried to lie too flat. The pain hadn't been that bad. Things were getting better, if more slowly than he would have wished. Still slightly groggy, he wandered out to the great room. Kate was sitting at the table with her laptop. She looked up. "Feeling better? You're up just in time. I just heard from Lanie. She said there is a record of Halstead's DNA. When we get the results on Jessica Simmons from Addison, she'll be able to tell us if there is a parental match or not, right away. I heard from Javi too. He has a line on your mystery man, but it's not much. The man's name is Smith."

Castle groaned. "It had to be the most common name in the country. We'll have to figure out some way to narrow it down."

"Javi showed the picture of him to Evelyn. She said that Roy just called him Smith, but she thinks she remembers that his first name is Michael," Kate added. "That's something, but she doesn't have his contact information. She thinks it might have been on the computer that was stolen."

"Michael is less common than James or John, but not much. Did Javi send Smith's pictures to you? Maybe we can figure out something from those."

"There's not much to see in them, Castle, but we can try."

Castle enlarged the pictures of the assumed Michael Smith on the screen in his office. He and Kate stared at them from the couch. Kate pounded her fist against a cushion. "There's nothing there, Castle! No tattoos, no scars, no identifying marks."

"No, Kate, look at his hand. See that callus? Roy Montgomery had one like it. He told me it came from holding a fishing rod. You know how Roy loved fishing. Maybe they did it together. We need to find out where Roy went to cast his lines, and see if anyone there knows this guy."

* * *

"Where Roy went fishing?" Evelyn repeated. "Damn, Javi. He only took me with him once. That was enough. Bait and I did not get along. And the bills for his trips were in the files that were stolen."

"Do you remember anything about where you went with him?" Esposito pressed. "Evelyn, it could be important, if we're going to figure out this mess."

Evelyn pressed a hand to her forehead. "Yes. It was on the shore in Massachusetts. Falmouth! I remember, because Roy was joking about some fishermen he heard cursing in a bar. Falmouth, like foul mouth."

"Yeah, I could see the captain joking about that. I'll check it out, thanks."

"Javi, how's Kate doing?" Evelyn asked.

"She's okay. She's still recovering at Castle's place, but she's okay. She'll be better when we get the scumbag who shot her."

"Recovering at Castle's place," Evelyn mused thoughtfully. "Roy always thought those two should be together. Maybe at least something he wanted will work out."

* * *

Kate chewed her lip as she read the text from Esposito. "Javi says Roy went fishing in Falmouth Massachusetts. I wish I could go up there and show Michael Smith's photo around. We need to find him, Castle."

"I could send Jensen," Castle suggested, "or I could go."

"No you can't, Castle. You could have one of your episodes hit you and fall off a boat or the pier or something. And we need to keep Jensen available in case something breaks with Halstead."

"Let's think this through a minute."

The corner's of Kate's mouth tugged upwards. "Castle that's supposed to be my line, but think what through?"

"Let's get creative. We start calling boat charter services. We could say we have friendly rivalry with Michael Smith and we heard he used to have great luck going out with Roy Montgomery. See what we hear. There's nothing confidential about who rents a boat, and people love to tell fish stories. We can also go online and see if they entered any contests or anything. Roy was a gambler. He would have loved those. Maybe there are some records, pictures - something. It's better than sitting on our hands until we get the DNA report on Jessica Simmons."

"You're right, Castle. Anything is better than doing nothing. I'll take the phone, you take the internet. Let's see what we come up with."

* * *

Castle swiped a hand across his eyes. Who the hell would have thought there were so many fishing contests, especially ones that didn't specify exact locations. He took a minute to run a wet wash cloth over his face before returning to his laptop. He clicked on the next the next entry in his list and stared at the picture. There was no name, but the silhouette was familiar. The third place contestant was captioned as a lawyer from New York City. How many lawyers named Michael Smith could there be in the Big Apple? When he checked, it turned out there were a lot. His initial search yielded 31,000 entries. Research was his forte. He could streamline the search with keywords, but he could still use some help - a lot of help. It was time to get Kate off the phone, and see if he could also rope in some after hours help from the king of search engines, Kevin Ryan.

"Kate, you know I've wanted to help, I just couldn't do anything Gates could find out about," Ryan explained, when he showed up, his private laptop in hand.

"I know Kevin," Kate said, "But finding this guy may be the answer to the everything."

"Don't belie the way I portrayed Raley in my books," Rick urged.

"I won't," Ryan promised. Interlacing his fingers, he stretched his arms, the crack of his knuckles popping in the air. "Just give me the code for your wi fi, Castle. We are going to get this done! Lawyer Michael Smith, come to Da!"


	9. Chapter 9

The Push

Chapter 9

"Kate," Castle called, "talk to you a minute?"

Kate left the room where Ryan was working and followed Castle to his bedroom. He closed the door behind them. "Jensen sent me the DNA analysis of Jessica Simmons. I sent it to your phone. I need you to forward it to Lanie."

Kate pulled her phone out of the pocket of her pants. "I'll do it right now." The phone buzzed before Kate could send a message. "That's weird. Lanie's calling me, right now."

Kate put the call on speaker. Lanie's words were uncharacteristically shaky. "Kate, we have a problem."

"Is it about Halstead's DNA? I was just about to send you the analysis Castle got on the DNA from the girl we think is his daughter."

"Halstead's DNA is not a the problem. I can get all of it I want. Kate, The man is lying on my table. He's dead."

"How?" Castle exclaimed.

"I haven't done an autopsy yet, but COD looks like blunt force trauma. The cops think it was a mugging. He was found only a block from an ATM and there's video of him getting money. He didn't have it on him. His wallet and his phone were missing. There are white lines where his wedding ring and watch would have been. But here's the thing, usually a mugger leaves something behind; hair, fibers, something. So far there isn't anything. The crime is too clean. If someone knows you were looking at this guy, you two need to watch your butts. Kate, you barely survived your shooting. You may not be that lucky again."

"Lanie, there's already a security detail on me. I'll be fine."

"I hope so girlfriend. And you too, Writer Boy. Just be careful."

"We will Lanie," Kate assured her friend.

"Do you believe that was a mugging?" Castle asked, as Kate shoved her phone back in pants.

Kate shook her head grimly. "What are the odds? We're looking into Halstead and he ends up dead. And worse, there must be a mole in the department somewhere, someone who knew Lanie checked on Halstead's DNA. Outside of Ryan, Espo, and Lanie, we can't trust anyone."

"Then that would include your protective detail too. Kate, my security system was never meant to repel a serious attack. We could be sitting ducks. We need some kind of outside help."

"Does Jensen Addison have security operatives?" Kate queried.

"No, he's a lone wolf, and if Halstead was taken out, Jensen may be blown. We need a heavy hitter, and I have an idea who. You know I have contacts in the CIA."

"You mean Agent Gray, Castle? The melon baller killer? Really?"

"No, Kate. Gray is just a liaison, a harmless looking public face. I never would have brought anyone with a seriously under cover into the precinct."

"Castle, what are you talking about?"

"Look, the characters in Derrick Storm didn't just come out of my imagination, any more than the ones in the Nikki Heat books do. They're based on real people, just like Raley and Ochoa are based on Ryan and Esposito. I worked with the CIA for a year."

Kate stared at the man she thought she knew. "How did you manage that?"

Castle shrugged. "Damned if I know. I asked for some information I could use for background. I heard some kind of mutterings that I had a patron, but I have no idea where they came from. The next thing I know, they enlisted me. Maybe the company just wanted someone no one would ever suspect, who could front for them around the world. You know I've done a lot of traveling. I was read into a few operations and I met some pretty dark characters, including some independent contractors. They're not really the sort of people you'd want to know, but they could stand up against whomever we're fighting now."

"And you know how to get in touch with them?" Kate queried.

"I can't make direct contact, but I know where to start."

* * *

Castle had been directed in a short text, to take a meet in a small park not far from the loft. He walked, checking as best as he could, to make sure he wasn't followed. Kate hadn't wanted him to go alone, but the text had been explicit. His head was pounding, but from from the stiffness in his shoulders, he suspected the pain was more a result of tension, that a product of his injury. Both his eyes and his mind were clear. If anything, he felt hyper-alert, as if he could feel the gaze of any eyes that turned even slightly his way.

Approaching the park, he sought out the benches farthest from the playground. There were two, back to back. He had been advised to sit in the one facing east. That would put the afternoon sun in his eyes if he looked behind him. He wasn't sure if that had been the intent or not, but it didn't make him feel any better.

The writer had not long to wait. At the appointed time, a large man dropped into the seat behind him. Between the glare from the sun, and the sunglasses and baseball cap the man wore, Castle couldn't make out much about his features. His hair was white, and he looked vaguely familiar, but if Castle had seen him before, he couldn't remember where. "You have a problem," the man said without introduction, in a voice softer than Castle would have expected, given his size.

"I do," Castle confirmed. "Someone is out there, someone very good at hiding in the shadows, who intends to kill my - partner, and quite possibly me and my family as well. My daughter is on her way to Europe, But I can't keep her there long."

"Your partner? Don't you mean your girlfriend? It's been quite a fantasy you've been weaving about Detective Beckett in your books."

"Fine, call her my girlfriend if you want. I'm not sure what she'd have to say about it, but whatever Kate and I may or may or may not be to each other, the danger is there regardless. I have reason to believe the N.Y.P.D. may be compromised, and we need someone on the outside, watching our backs. I can pay."

"Yes, I'm well aware that you can. You'll be receiving instructions on where to wire funds. You will not see me again, but I'll be around. If anyone tries to get to you or Detective Beckett or your family, they will not live long enough to regret it. I can assure you of that, and you know my references."

A shudder ran through Castle, even in the warmth of the sunlight. Despite the mildness of the man's tone, he had every reason to believe that he would have no hesitation in pulling a trigger, or using any other means to end a human existence. At this point, it didn't matter, as long as the body that ended up on a slab in Lanie's domain didn't belong to him, Kate, Alexis, or his mother. The stranger threw a few handfuls of bread crumbs to the pigeons that were scavenging in the area around the bench, then strode off without another word. Castle sat and gathered himself for a few moments before returning to the loft.


	10. Chapter 10

The Push

Chapter 10

As Smith's boat approached the dock, he grew warier. He'd come to the conclusion that he couldn't return to New York, at least until he'd checked out the situation there first. When he came within cell range, he activated the link to the cameras in his apartment in New York. He winced at the images on the tiny screen. It was obvious that he'd been identified. Fortunately, the file had not been in the apartment, but if he returned there, it might be the last time he went anywhere. He would have to put his plan in motion.

* * *

Ryan spent a few more frustrating hours at the Castle loft. He was about to give up, go home, and see if Jenny would be willing to give him a back rub before his honey milk, when an alert caught his eye. A break-in had been discovered at an apartment uptown. The name of the occupant was given as Michael Smith. The crime was being investigated by the 54th. He didn't have any contacts at that precinct, but Javi still did. Some of them were patrons of The Old Haunt. It was possible that as the beer was poured, a little information might flow as well. It was worth a try.

* * *

Kate felt that she was making some progress, at least physically. Her doctor had cleared her to climb steps, as long as she rested when she needed to. She was pushing the limits of his restrictions as far as she could. The tiny lift Castle had installed, had been folded and pushed aside. It would still be long weeks before she could start physical therapy or lift anything much heavier than her laptop, but when she took her mandatory stretches to avoid sitting too long, she got in as many steps as she could without collapsing. She was determined that when she was back on duty, she would be at full strength. Much as she hated to acknowledge it, she realized the process would be tough, but she'd always managed to kick ass with everything she did. She wasn't about to pull back as the result of some bastard's bullet.

She fidgeted nervously through the day. Javi had promised to arrive with a report that night, sneaking in through the building next door to avoid being spotted by her protection detail. She hated that suspecting the cops who should have been her protectors was necessary, but she had no choice. She consulted her father's watch for the fifth time. It would be hours yet. Castle seemed to have found a distraction at his keyboard. He said he was going to try to write, but she'd heard a few telltale sound effects that would not emanate from a word processor. She had never played his favorite game, Terra Quest, but she was sure she could learn. It would take her mind off the case for a while. She excelled at fighting real battles. How hard could a pretend one be?"

She found out soon enough, just how hard. Castle was delighted that she wanted to join the fray, but he was an accomplished warrior and swordsman, the latter both in cyber space and the real world. Kate was starting from square one. She wasn't used to being at the back of the pack at anything and put every ounce of concentration into her effort. She found she was surprised when an alert on Rick's computer notified the two of them that it was time for Javi to make his appearance at the loft.

Javi accepted the beer Castle offered and took a long swig. "What did the 54th find at Michael Smith's place?" Kate asked.

"Beckett, the place was trashed. All the files had been pulled out. The cushions were torn open. There were even holes in the ceiling. Someone was looking for something. The thing is, it was no thief. All the electronics were still there, and there were titanium and diamond cuff links in one of the drawers. But there was a smashed high ball glass. Our perp wasn't drinking; there was no DNA on it. I think he was just pissed off. Don't think the dude found what he was looking for."

"I hope not," Kate said, "but that apartment was the only clue we had to find Michael Smith. We're dead in the water."

"Maybe not," Castle interjected. "Sito, is there a photo of those cuff links?"

"Should be," Javi replied. "The investigating team would have to record the contents of the place. What are you thinking, Bro?"

"Titanium is very hard to work with. There are very few jewelers who could handle it, and it would have to be a special order. Those cuff links should be traceable. Think you can get access to that picture?"

"Got a guy at the 54th still owes me a favor. I'll get it," Javi promised.

* * *

Smith's first destination after he disembarked from the boat, was an old lighthouse. He was on the board of a foundation that had purchased it for restoration. There were working utilities, but construction had yet to begin. It would make a workable hiding place until he could gather intelligence about what had taken place in his absence, and find a better one. To operate without being found, he would have to do all his business in cash. Remaining sub rosa would take a lot of it. Fortunately, as a holdover from his tenure with a nameless agency, he had several stashes. One wasn't too far away, and he had enough cash on him to use anonymous transportation. There would be a bus that would get him where he needed to go, rolling through in the morning. Along with substantial funds, he had stowed a weapon in his hidey hole. He hoped he wouldn't need it. He also had an old friend nearby who could help him plug into his network of sources, without being detected. She wasn't a bad cook, either.

* * *

Castle pushed Kate's hair back from her face. "Until we hear from Javi, we're at a stopping point. We could both use a little time to kick back with a little less adrenaline than Terra Quest. Besides, even kick ass woman that you are, you're terrible with a sword."

"I know," Kate admitted. "I just feel so - helpless, Castle. I'm worse at waiting than I am at sword fighting."

"I know, Kate. I get it. Listen, I know a game in which we're evenly matched. You've beaten me, I've beaten you. How about poker? Just for the fun of it. We could play for chips, or those gummy bears you like, the kind we played for at the precinct. I had mother stock up."

"At the precinct, we were still at a draw and starving, after four hours. We quit to grab burgers at Remy's," Kate recalled.

"Indeed. As I remember, you stubbornly insisted on going Dutch."

"The last thing I wanted was to owe you, Castle, although I already did. They were great burgers, by the way."

Castle cupped her face, making gentle circles on her cheek with his thumb."Yeah, in more ways than one. You had a little ketchup on your lip, and it was driving me crazy. I wanted to kiss it off."

Kate stepped back. "Castle, we can't. I can't. Not now."

Castle nodded. "I know. You have a lot of healing to do. But, you'll get there, Kate. We both will. So for now, should I get the cards?"

"Castle, prepare to cry like a little girl."

Castle grinned. "I look forward to it."


	11. Chapter 11

The Push

Chapter 11

Castle donned a green eye shade and handed one to Kate. "If we are going to do this we might as well do it right. Chips, gummy bears, or chocolate kisses?"

"How do I know that you won't use chocolate to mark the cards, Castle?"

"I can keep all the chocolaty goodness sheathed in shiny metal - unless it ends up in my stomach. Anyway, I'd never cheat on you, Kate."

"Are we still talking about cards, Rick?"

Castle shrugged. "For now. Care to cut?"

Kate lifted the top two-thirds of the stack of cards and slipped it beneath the deck.

Castle grinned. "I like a lady who goes big."

* * *

Kate was wilting in her chair. It was two A. M.. Both kinds of candy had been exhausted, with both players making some of their winnings disappear into their mouths. They'd switched to tortilla chips and finally to standard poker chips, but they were still evenly matched. "Kate, we should call it a night," Castle urged. You're not supposed to tire yourself out."

Kate began to cluck like a hen.

"I am not chicken!" Castle insisted. "I was only thinking of you. And I wouldn't cluck anyway. I'm a rooster. I'd crow."

"I know that Castle, the whole precinct has heard you crow - on a daily basis. But you haven't shown me anything to crow about yet."

Castle's eyes narrowed. "Fine! Let's get this over with." The cards hit the table with a smack.

Kate lost the hand, and the next one, and the next. "Dammit Castle! Were you just letting me win?"

"You wanted to keep your mind occupied. Other parts of your body would have been more fun, but I did what I could. You want to thank me now?"

"Thank you?" Kate poked a finger into his chest. "I should…."

Castle caught her hand, kissed her palm, and folded her fingers over the spot his lips had touched. "You should what?"

She wrapped both her hands around his larger one. "Castle I'm sorry. I know you meant well and that was really sweet. I'm just frustrated, you know?"

"Frustrated you can't go out and kick some asshole's butt?"

"Yeah that, but frustrated I had to say no to you. I didn't want to. You need to know that. The freaking bullet wound! The freaking everything!"

"You know Kate, you once told me that we could just cuddle. You didn't mean it then, but I mean it now. Come to bed with me. No funny stuff. Put on whatever you're most comfortable sleeping in. I can wear my softest, if least sexy, pajamas. I'll just hold you in my arms and we can drift off together."

"Castle, you haven't seen it, but my scars are really ugly. Josh had to open my chest up to stop the bleeding and it's going to be a long time before I can wear anything loose or low cut again without looking like the bride of Frankenstein."

"Kate, do you think I give a damn? If those scars are the result of Motor Cycle Boy saving your life, then they're beautiful. You'd be beautiful covered from your chin to the tips of your toes. I love you, Kate. I'm saying it now when I know you can hear me. No would be assassin's bullet could ever change that. And I will wait as long as it takes, to show you how much."

Kate smoothed back the hair that had fallen over his forehead during his confession. "Castle, you just did."

* * *

The bus stop was at the edge of the town, but that suited Smith fine. His cache was in the woods, a short walk from Maggie's cabin. There wasn't much of a path, but it was marked if a person knew what signs to look for, and Smith did. He reached the large rocks by a bend in the stream. The water was high as a result of heavy rains, and it lapped at his shoes as he reached into a hidden space between the boulders. His waterproof emergency drop was there. Over the years, more than a few tiny denizens of the rocks had left evidence of their passage on it. He washed it off in the stream and pressed his fingers into recesses under the rim, in a coded sequence. The top popped open. The bills were old, but still legal tender in the United States. It wouldn't be a bad idea to exchange them for newer currency at a bank - or perhaps have Maggie do it for him. He checked the action on his gun. It was still clean and well lubricated. It was time to find Maggie.

Maggie Curran pulled a loaf of bread out of the oven. They sold perfectly good bread in town. She just enjoyed making her own. Kneading the dough was great for the release of tension. She had plenty of that. No one would suspect that a middle-aged woman living off the grid in the New England woods would be monitoring chatter for the whole Eastern Seaboard, but then that was the point. She'd heard some lately. The Hammer was working off the books, protecting a former associate. That was the official story. What Jackson was actually doing was quite another question. It was one to which she might never know the answer. It was probably better that way. She'd heard a few whispers about an old friend, too. He'd dropped out of sight. That wasn't unusual in itself. He'd always been exceptionally adept at disappearing. But the word was that he had something hot, and a very nasty character had been sent by a powerful actor to find him, so far without success. She wasn't surprised to hear the coded knock at her door.

He looked older than when she'd seen him last. His hair had grayed completely, and the creases in his face had deepened, but he was in one piece. She threw her arms around him. "Michael, what the hell have you stumbled into now? I thought that you were going to devote yourself to pursuing the law behind the scenes - in between fishing expeditions."

"That was the plan, Maggie," Smith agreed, "but I was doing a favor for an old friend, and things got messy. I've been burned. I need to go to ground for a while."

"That part I already knew, Michael. You pissed off a big gun. As far as I know, he's not big enough to have clearance to know about this particular listening post, but things have a way of leaking. I'll get a heads up if anyone is headed this way, but it may not be much of a warning. You'll need to find another spot as soon as you can."

"I will," Smith agreed, "but there's something I have to make sure is protected first. I need deep access."

"No problem with that," Maggie assured him, "but while you're taking your dive, how about if I fix us some lunch?"

Smith brushed her cheek with his lips. "Maggie, you are one of a kind."

"Michael, God would never have dared to make two of us."

That evening, while Smith slept, Maggie pulled her scrambler satellite phone from its hiding place beneath the floorboards. She swiped an icon. "Yeah," a voice responded.

"He's here, and he's safe."

"Just make sure he stays that way," the voice instructed. "He's the key to cleaning out a nasty nest of vermin- and catching the king rat."

"I'm on it," Maggie assured him, "but your people better be doing their jobs too."

"Oh, I promise you, they are."


	12. Chapter 12

The Push

Chapter 12

When he woke up at first, Castle couldn't quite believe the warmth pressed into the curve of his body, but the faint hint of cherries wafting to his nose from the soft disarray of her hair was unmistakable. Kate. The fearless cop had been nervous, even shy, her muscles tense as he held her. But they'd just lain together and breathed, as the early morning sounds and flickering lights of the city drifted through the high windows of the loft. Finally, she slept. They both did. Castle had no idea what time it was, except that the sun was up. It didn't really matter. Alexis was still in France and Mother could take care of herself. He would happily have stayed just where he was all day except that he became increasingly aware of the need to pee. He waited as long as he could, before regretfully releasing his hold on Kate and starting to roll away. The room seemed to slip for a moment but stabilized before his stomach could react. Slowly, he pushed himself up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Kate stirred slightly but didn't open her eyes. Castle entertained thoughts of doing his business as quickly as possible and climbing back into bed.

It was not to be. When Rick returned, Kate was doing her best to stretch without pulling at her incisions. "Good morning," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Kate reached out a hand to touch his flannel covered thigh. "Castle, last night was the first time since Montgomery's funeral that I've slept without hearing shots in my dreams."

"I slept better too without visions of losing you raking at my brain," Castle confided. "So maybe, we can help each other sleep on a regular basis."

"What will Martha think? And Alexis?"

"May I remind you that I'm a grown man, one who resulted from a one night stand. I don't have to worry about what my mother has to say about it. And when Alexis gets back, I can talk to her. She's always been more afraid of my being out on the streets with you than that we might be - personally involved. No snipers in the bedroom. At least I hope not."

"Have you heard from your contact?" Kate queried.

"No. But I didn't expect to. His kind doesn't give reports. Unnecessary communication endangers the mission. They just get the job done. He will let me know when it's completed - and send me a bill."

"Castle, you didn't hire him to kill someone, did you?"

"Kate, the contract is to keep us safe. The means are up to him and his operatives. If he has to take someone out in the process, I'm not sure I'd lose any sleep over it. I didn't lose a second over Montgomery shooting Lockwood and his henchmen, just over Roy getting killed in the process. It made me wish I'd kept beating on Lockwood when he tried to shoot you, even if I'd broken both hands. Would it bother you if our people take out whoever these guys are?"

Kate grabbed hold of his hand as she shook her head. "No, I guess it wouldn't, except for the man behind it all. I want to take him down myself."

Castle lightly squeezed her slender fingers. "I've no doubt you will."

After sending a coded signal to keep guns from firing the moment he entered, Castle's white-haired contact let himself into the recently leased apartment across the street from Castle's loft. "Who's been in and out?" Hammer asked his operative.

"Coupla cops," Don Shophower, known to his coworkers as 'Shop,", reported. "One of 'em snuck in from next door. Guess he thought he wouldn't be seen. The bozos in the car downstairs might have missed him. Their handler's been around coupla times too. We ran facial recognition. Ex-military, name o' Cedric Marks. Goes by Cole Maddox now. He's staying in a corporate suite downtown."

"I've heard of him. He did some black ops. Got kicked loose for enjoying administering torture a bit too much."

"Looks like he's just having Castle and Beckett watched for now," Shop offered. "halfway decent sniper could have taken a shot from the roof of this building through the bedroom window this morning. We have sensors up there and on the stairs in case anyone tries to use that vantage point, but so far nothing."

"No, I don't think there will be," Hammer agreed. "At least not yet. He's waiting to get his hands on something before he takes out Beckett and maybe Castle too. I have a friend keeping an eye on the guy who knows where it is. I want to get to it first."

"And if you can't?" Shop inquired.

"We see just how much Cedric likes being on the other end of what he likes to mete out. But for now, we just keep up the surveillance. I'll check in with you later."

"The bedroom together," Hammer thought as he descended the stairs. "That was a new development. His son was finally getting somewhere with Kate Beckett. About damn time!"

* * *

Maggie regarded her visitor. He'd changed while she was gone. The gray hair on both his head and his eyebrows had become a dark brown. Contact lenses disguised the color of his eyes. Inserts had minimized the unusually high arches in his feet. An astringent had temporarily made the lines on his face less noticeable. "If you're looking for a new line of work, you could get a job at a spa. You've lost twenty years," Maggie observed.

"Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the internal effects of the passage of years."

She held out an envelope. "Newer versions of your bills. Nothing bigger than a twenty."

He took her offering. "Thanks. I'll need that to get to Hoboken."

"The Riviera of New Jersey. What's in Hoboken besides the tubes to New York?"

"My backup office. The one I maintain in lower Manhattan has been found. The one in Hoboken was established under an identity I developed forty years ago. It wasn't in my files at my apartment. Not even the company knows about it. No way it could be leaked."

"Wise precaution," Maggie offered. "You never know where there's mole. So how are you getting there?"

"By water, as much as I can, Michael replied. "No cameras except on satellites, and if our guy does have a mole in the company, he'd have no way of knowing what to look for."

"Be safe, Michael," Maggie urged. "I have a new bread recipe I want to try out on you next time I see you."

Michael brushed her cheek with his fingertips. "I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

Maggie gave Michael some time to put some distance between himself and her cabin before she retrieved her satellite phone from its hiding place. "He's still safe, and coming your way," she reported. "Package is somewhere in Hoboken. He should be coming via the Hudson to an office at least four decades old."

"Copy that." Hammer acknowledged. "We'll try to keep eyes on him. Good job Maggie."

"Just don't you blow it, Jackson. He's a good man. He was out. He didn't need to get pulled into a mess like this."

"No one is ever really out, Maggie," Hammer reminded her. "Of all people, you should know that better than anyone."

"I do." Maggie conceded, cutting the connection. She walked the few steps to her flour canister and started a new batch of bread. She really needed to pound on something.


	13. Chapter 13

The Push

Chapter 13

Michael approached the door of the office of Bart Combs, a moderately successful author of legal self-help books. It was a while since he'd been there. He looked for signs that something was amiss. The old building employed a janitorial service, so he hadn't put a tell-tale in the door. He used the place infrequently enough that the dust would have been an inch thick if he hadn't made allowance for the cleaning staff to enter. They had keys and wouldn't leave marks on the lock or frame, in any case. There were no signs the lock had been forced, but the door opened easily, too easily. The old wood tended to swell in the humidity along the river, and the door opened smoothly only when it had been recently unlocked. A nightly cleaning would not have been recent enough. He reached for his gun and pointed it at the tall figure standing by his desk.

Hammer's still dark eyebrows rose as he pointed a larger, more powerful gun at Smith. "Michael, is that any way to greet a friend?"

"Hammer, you don't have any friends. You never did. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Whether you believe I have friends or not, you have access to a package that is vital to the safety of someone I have reason to care about. You don't have enough juice to use it to remove the threat. I do. And Bart Combs, lead singer for the Woodgies? It was in your file that for the fifteen seconds they lasted, you never missed a Woodgies concert. You should have picked a better alias than that. There are skills you still don't have. We need to work together."

"You could be working for the man that package could be used against." Michael accused. "How do I know you aren't."

"Because if I was," Hammer responded, "This place would have blown sky high as the result of an unfortunate gas leak, and you'd be dead already. I'd also be well on my way to 425 Broome Street to eliminate both Kate Beckett and Richard Castle. If Castle were left alive, he'd never stop looking into her death. Just tell me where the file is. You've been away from the company long enough that there is a lot that you don't know, that Roy Montgomery never knew. There are more lives on the line here than Beckett and Castle, many more. The tentacles of the Lazarus organization reach into corners you would not imagine."

"What the hell is the Lazarus organization?" Michael demanded.

"Wow, you really don't know. Lazarus, aka Bracken, is at the center of a massive drug distribution operation. That wouldn't be company business except that it has overseas connections, and someone who protects those overseas connections, whom we have yet to identify."

Michael nodded slowly. "So, there is a mole."

"At least one," Hammer agreed. "To remove the threat, not only to Beckett and Castle but a significant number of others, we need to squeeze Bracken for his identity. For that, we need the leverage you hold. Where's the package, Michael? You know I could force it out of you, but I don't want to. Maggie would be very upset, and no one wants to see Maggie upset."

Michael stared into Hammer's unwavering gaze. It was true. If Jackson Hunt wanted him dead, he'd be dead, and anyone else in the building, too. Hammer had never much concerned himself with collateral damage. The legendary wet boy was telling the truth, or at least part of the truth. No one in the company ever told all of it. "I'll get the file." He disabled a booby trap, opened a hidden floor safe and withdrew a thick Manilla envelope, addressed to him in Roy Montgomery's handwriting. "This is it."

* * *

As a sniper, Cedric Marks had learned to be patient, but his patience was wearing thin. The cops in Beckett's protective detail were idiots. Since Beckett was confining herself the Castle loft, the only thing they seemed concerned with was chowing down on the best donuts and pizza in the neighborhood while they kept a cursory eye on movements in and out of the building. They hadn't even paid attention to the detectives coming and going. They didn't think it out of the ordinary that she should receive visits from her fellow officers. Marks could understand that cops paid calls on their fallen friends, but he found it unlikely they'd spend hours doing so. He'd more expected that Kate's colleagues would drop by with flowers or a potted plant, exchange a little gossip, and be on their way. Ryan's time at the loft had been particularly suspicious. Clearly, Kate had enlisted his help with something. Disability leave or not, Cedric suspected that Kate was working the case, and the other cops were helping her out. She might even be searching for the elusive Mr. Smith.

Cedric was confident that if he had failed to find Smith, even with the information Orlando had obtained for him from the Montgomery home, Kate Beckett couldn't do any better. The boss had warned him not to underestimate her and was paying Cedric to wait until they were sure the Smith situation was under control. He'd wait, but when the time came to take Beckett out, he would enjoy it."

* * *

Despite Castle's attempts to distract her, Kate had been anxiously waiting for some news from the precinct. Ryan and Esposito had been re-interviewing anyone who had claimed to see the phony groundskeeper at the funeral. No one had paid much attention to him, but the two cops said details were slowly starting to emerge. They had an approximate height and weight and a very rough idea of his features. CSU had also gone over every square inch of the area where anyone remembered seeing the elusive figure. They'd found a minuscule scrap of cloth, with a tiny amount of DNA from sweat. The lab was working on amplifying it to yield some useful information. Assuming it belonged to the shooter at all, they didn't expect much, but it was possible they might get lucky. The weapon had been found right away. It was a model often used by military snipers. There had been no DNA, no ballistics match, and no registration number, but they were tracing as many sales of weapons like it as they could, and checking any reports of stolen ones. Something had to pop soon.

Kate had been pacing the floor but had finally sunk to a seat on the couch. Castle dropped down beside her, and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Come here." As she settled against him, he began to massage the tension out of her knotted muscles when her cell phone buzzed.

"Beckett, we've got something," Ryan reported excitedly. "A gun like your shooter used was stolen out of the home of a collector. The guy who stole it broke the glass on a display case and cut himself. CSU was able to get blood, and we have a match. Javi and I are on our way to pick him up now."

"Is it the shooter?" Kate asked.

"We don't think so," Ryan said. "He doesn't fit descriptions we've been getting, but there's a good chance he might know who the shooter is. I'll let you know as soon as we put the screws to him."

"Ryan, do you think there's any chance one of you just might accidentally leave your cell transmitting when you have that guy in the box?"

"Beckett," Esposito interrupted, "I just got a new phone and damn! I keep forgetting how to end a call."


	14. Chapter 14

The Push

Chapter 14

"Have Ryan and Espo got him in the box now?" Castle asked.

"Mm," Kate confirmed, listening to the flow of sound emanating from the speaker on her phone.

"We can pipe that through my speaker system, so you'll get a clearer output," Castle suggested. "I can use blue tooth. You don't even need to move."

"Okay," Kate agreed.

Shortly, Kate could hear the rustling of the pages in a file.

"Mr. Barney Walpole," Ryan inquired, "you like to steal guns?"

"I don't steal nuthin'." Walpole retorted.

"True enough," Ryan agreed. "You don't steal nothing. You stole something. Specifically, you stole a sniper rifle and a pretty nice one too. Your DNA puts you at the scene. The owner would love to have it back, but he can't, because it was used to shoot a cop, and around here we don't take that very well."

"We'll get very nasty on the ass of anyone who had anything to do with it," Esposito added.

Walpole swiped at the sweat erupting on his forehead. "I didn't shoot no cop!"

"We believe you," Ryan agreed, "but we believe you know who did. You could be charged as an accessory, but we might be able to convince the DA to skip that little detail if you tell us who you stole the gun for."

"I can't do that," Walpole protested. "He'll freakin' come after me."

"I got bad news for you man," Esposito put in, "he'll do that anyway. He's already killed one guy who helped him out. He hears we picked you up; you were talking to us, you'll be lucky to live five minutes. Your only hope is telling us who he is and letting us make sure he's put where he can't go after you or anyone else."

"Otherwise we put you back out on the street," Ryan added. "If you want a last meal, you'll have to eat it fast."

"Damn! We need a name!" Beckett hissed through clenched teeth.

"Just wait, Kate," Castle counseled, wrapping his hand around hers. "You can hear the fear in Walpole's voice. They've got him."

"Alright, I'll tell you what I know," Walpole blurted, but it's not much. I met the guy playing pool in a bar. He hustled me big time. I owed him a grand, but he said he'd forget it if I stole the gun for him."

"We need a name," Ryan demanded as if reading Kate's mind.

"He called himself Maddox, Cole Maddox, but I don't think that's his real name. When I used it, he took a second to answer, yuh know?"

"Yeah," Ryan agreed. "we know. Jerk couldn't remember his own alias. Look, we're going to put you with a sketch artist so we can get a face, but is there anything else you can remember about him?"

"He had kind of a strange walk," Walpole recalled. "Like his legs started from his chest. He talked really softly too. And he had this look like he thought the whole rest of the world was stupid."

"Okay, the officer outside will take you to holding until the sketch artist gets here. You remember anything else, you call someone right away, to let us know."

L.T. led Walpole away. Esposito turned off the camera and the microphones while Ryan checked that there was no one in observation. Esposito pulled out his phone. "Beckett, you there? You hear all that?"

"Yeah good job, guys," Kate responded.

"What about the walk?" Castle queried. "That sounds familiar." Castle snapped his fingers. "Steven Seagal walks like that. He talks like that, too. You don't think…?"

"No we don't, Castle," Esposito interrupted. "Anyway, Seagal's off pretending to be a deputy sheriff or something. But there are martial arts guys who walk like that. If our shooter is one of them, he's been trained on more than guns. Military or paramilitary maybe."

"We'll check if there's a money trail for a Cole Maddox," Ryan continued. "If he was local, we'd have some kind of a record on him. He's probably from out of town. He might be checked into a hotel somewhere."

"Or if he is into martial arts, he'd want to work out somewhere. You should check out gyms and dojos too," Kate suggested.

"Right," Esposito agreed.

"And you'll keep us informed?" Castle asked.

"We'll keep Beckett informed," Esposito replied. He thumbed an ending to the call and shook his head. "Damn! Steven Seagal? Davidson scrambled Castle's brains even more than usual."

"He's just trying to look out for Beckett," Ryan offered. "Anyway, he might have put us on the right track. Let's see where it leads."

* * *

Victoria Gates was taking no chances. The ring of cops that surrounded the Golden Arm Gym was in full armor and snipers were posted on the roofs of all the surrounding buildings. Anyone with the temerity to shoot a cop was not getting away with it on her watch. Kate Beckett, as outside the bounds of common sense as she was to partner with a writer, was still one of the Twelfth Precincts own. The case belonged to Gates and her people, but she was no fool. She maintained direct and constant contact with the captain of ESU, but he would be controlling the operation. Fiber optics had been fed into the building, and the quarry was in sight. The ESU commander's terse command of "Let's move," came through Gate's walkie-talkie and cut the New York air.

Cedric Marks stood over his latest opponent. It hadn't taken long to leave the man panting on the mat. Cedric gazed down at him with scorn. That was the problem with gym rats. They thought they had all the moves but had never had to do battle when their lives were on the line. Cedric could feel the slight vibration in the floor from the approach of the booted feet outside. Cedric had no weapon except his own hands and feet. His gun was in his locker with his street clothes, as was his knife. The squad of men burst through the heavy doors of the gym. Cedric knew he had no chance to fight or escape, but the big man had secured the release of his operatives before. The cops wouldn't shoot him unless they had to. They'd be too interested in trying to flip him on his boss. There was no chance of that. Telling the cops anything was the way to insure he would end up dead. All he needed to do was to maintain his silence and wait. He placed his hands behind his head and knelt on the mat.

* * *

In his private home office, Bracken received a call less than five minutes after Marks was captured. He was sure the hit man wouldn't give him up. It was irrelevant. The senator was severing any connections that might lead back to him, including Marks. He swiped the listing for another contact. Marks would be dead before morning. Bracken was about to give the order when he heard the clearing of a throat behind him. He turned toward the sound to view the tall white-haired man holding a Sig Sauer P320. Bracken's jaw tightened. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"Your guardians aren't as efficient as you'd like, or as conscious," Hammer replied mildly. "You have only two choices right now, and of the two of them, I believe you will prefer the first. You can call your dogs off Kate Beckett and anyone else you might have planned to terminate, and talk to me, or you can die in thirty seconds - or less if you try to move."

"You won't get away with this," Bracken warned.

"Senator, you would be amazed at what I have gotten away with. You've been by far one of my easiest targets. Fifteen seconds."

Involuntarily, the pitch of Bracken's voice rose and sweat soaked through his shirt. "What do you want to know?"


	15. Chapter 15

The Push

Chapter 15

Castle regarded the handsome figure on the television screen. "Anderson Cooper, huh? If you like men in tight black t-shirts, I have a some in premium one hundred percent cotton."

"I'm interested in the news, not what the guy reading it likes to wear," Kate protested. "He's reporting a strange story. Senator William Bracken has disappeared. He didn't tell his wife or his staff where he was going. He didn't leave any kind of a message. There are no signs of a struggle and no ransom demands. No terrorists are claiming responsibility. He's just gone."

"Hmm. That is peculiar. When I was with the company, there were people who were disappeared occasionally, but they were politicians from hostile governments, not our own. Maybe he just decided to take an incognito vacation or has an assignation. He wouldn't announce that. Remember that governor who claimed he was hiking in the Appalachians when he disappeared, and it turned out he was with his mistress in Rio?"

"If that's what Bracken's doing he's going to have some interesting explanations to make to his constituents and his wife," Kate noted.

Castle wiggled his eyebrows. "So did that governor."

* * *

William Bracken tried to get comfortable in the narrow bed in what his captor claimed was a safe house. It wasn't that he didn't need a haven. If his partner thought that he'd rolled on him, he'd be able to time his life expectancy on a stopwatch. Bracken had spilled enough to keep his skin for a while, but far from everything. White hair had claimed that Bracken's rogue agent partner would never know that his cover had been blown until he was either dead or in a hole somewhere, but Bracken had his doubts. The man, who along with his protégé, controlled a large portion of the flow of drugs into the country, had successfully hidden his illicit activities from the company for years. Anyone who came close to uncovering his operation had found themselves on a mission that went fatally wrong, or suffered an unfortunate accident. He didn't make mistakes. Bracken had his doubts about how much longer white hair would live. Unfortunately, if the man met an untimely end, Bracken was afraid that he'd not outlive him by much.

* * *

Cedric couldn't understand what was going on. He'd expected his boss would have had him out within a couple of hours, or at least a day, but he was still sitting in a holding cell. He'd been able to maintain his silence, merely nodding or shaking his head, but it was wearing on him. He was also beginning to wonder if he'd been cut loose. If he had, his termination would be ordered with extreme prejudice. He'd carried out a few sentences like that, himself. Damn Bracken, anyway. If Cedric was going down, Bracken would go down with him. Cedric would wait another day. If Bracken hadn't pulled him out, he would pull Bracken in.

* * *

"Were you talking to Espo?" Castle asked.

"Uh huh," Kate replied. "Marks still hasn't said a word. Javi thinks he's nervous, but he's trying to cover it up ."

"And it's absolutely confirmed that Marks shot you?"

"No doubt. He meets the description, and his DNA matches the few markers the lab was able to get from the trace of they had. Dammit, Castle! I want to confront him. If I could be there, I could get the identity of the man behind all of this out of him."

"Kate, even if Captain Gates would allow that, which from what we've heard from Ryan and Espo, wouldn't happen, I've seen how hard you work during interrogations. You don't have that kind of strength back yet, not even close. You go into that room; you could end up back in the hospital - or worse. God Kate! We're finally together. I can't lose you now. Ryan and Esposito are wearing him down. They were trained by the best - you. Give them a chance.

* * *

The damn cop just kept staring at him. He'd stand outside the cell and just stare. That stupid brown face had stared at him for hours, and when Cedric stared back, the cop smirked. The man didn't even ask any questions. No questions were necessary. There was only one that mattered, and Cedric should never have had to think about giving the cops the answer. He should have been out - or dead - by now. Something had happened to Bracken. If Bracken had been arrested, an unlikely thing for a sitting Senator, Cedric would eventually be toast. Bracken would do anything to save his own ass. If Bracken were dead, it would be the same. The cops had enough evidence to track Cedric down; it would be enough evidence to put him away. The third possibility was that Bracken had cut him loose and assumed that Cedric would be afraid to talk. Whatever the truth was, Cedric's only move now was the same; make the best bargain he could. He locked eyes with his silent visitor. "Give me a deal with protection, and I'll give you my statement."

* * *

Esposito snorted and handed what Marks had written, to Ryan. The pale cop read it and shook his head. "You'll have to do better than that."

What are you talking about?" Marks demanded. "I'm giving you a United States Senator. There are names, places, victims, everything there."

"Very convenient," Ryan agreed, "except for one thing. I don't know how you heard about it in here, but Bracken is gone; disappeared from the surface of the earth. New York cops, Capital cops, the FBI, no one can find him. Maybe he was kidnapped by aliens." Esposito rolled his eyes. "Whatever happened to him," Ryan continued, "we can't bring charges against someone who can't face his accuser and defend himself. Eighth-grade civics, man. And if Bracken turns up dead, it won't matter what you say. You've got nothing man. Unless you give us another name, you're going down all the way."

* * *

Bracken didn't have a mark on his body except for a tiny puncture, but every part of him screamed with pain. His captor was an expert, no doubt about it. White Hair had obviously realized that Bracken was holding back. During the closed-door meetings of the Intelligence Committee, Bracken had heard about the CIA having methods like this. At times, almost salivating, his partner had also invoked the imagery of invisible torture. Bracken had never imagined that it would be inflicted on him. The white-haired man had given him the injection passively. He hadn't threatened or asked a single question. He'd just shot Bracken up with whatever horrendous drug was now coursing through his veins. It was a lesson and a warning. Bracken was at the man's mercy. There was nothing Bracken could do and no way he could fight back. Bracken had no doubt he'd live through this. If the man hadn't wanted more information, Bracken would already be dead. In any case, Bracken could never return to his former life. White Hair had everything in Montgomery's file. The pol's best chance, his only chance really, would be to tell White Hair everything he knew and hope that he'd live to see another day. Even death would be preferable to continuing to endure what he was suffering now. He called out and received no answer. Gritting his teeth, he dragged himself to his feet and banged on the door. He could hear whistling coming in his direction. White Hair opened a view-port, with a smile.


	16. Chapter 16

The Push

Chapter 16

Ryan signaled to L.T. "Wait!" Marks protested. "I can tell you who the mole in your department is."

"So now you want to smear a cop?" Esposito accused.

"You know there is one," Marks insisted, "one who runs other cops, or you wouldn't have tried to hide your comings and goings from the Castle loft, while you were meeting with your pal Detective Beckett. I can tell you who it is, and who's running him."

"Fine," Esposito agreed, "but if you're sh*tting us, you're done. You're going to the Tombs. A lot of accidents happen there."

"And no one is rolling the stone away," Ryan added.

Marks reached for a legal pad that lay in front of the detectives. Esposito pulled it back. "We need the name first."

Captain Marcus Donovan," Marks responded.

Ryan put a hand on Exposito's arm and dragged him into the corner of the room. "Javi," he whispered, "Donovan is head of IAD. He took over when Gates was transferred here. If we don't bring her in on this, our butts could be off the force permanently. We can't help Beckett if we get ourselves fired."

Esposito swore under his breath. "Alright, Bro, I'll stay with this dirt bag. You go get her."

* * *

Victoria Gates pulled her glasses from her face and used them to point at Marks. "So, you're claiming that a Captain in the N.Y.P.D. has been taking orders from a corrupt senator, running his own cadre of dirty cops, and working in tandem with a drug syndicate."

"I'm not claiming it, I'm giving you the facts," Marks smirked. "Check Donovan's finances. You'll see the evidence for yourself.

Gate's palmed her forehead. When she'd left IAD, she'd hoped she'd left the job of exposing the ugly side of the department behind her. "Alright Mr. Marks, give me details. Give me all the details."

* * *

At Castle's loft, Kate grasped Rick's hand underneath the table where they sat with Ryan and Esposito. "So, you're telling me that the man running the dirty cops in the department is the one in charge of rooting out dirty cops, and he's being run by Vulcan Simmons? We dismissed Simmons' involvement in all of this, months ago. But oh God! Captain Montgomery made us cut him loose. Do you think Roy knew?"

Esposito shook his head. "Doesn't look like it. Montgomery didn't have anything to do with Donovan or with narcotics. But he knew who ordered your mother's murder. He knew it wasn't Simmons. After you slammed Simmons into that mirror, Montgomery was probably just trying to keep Simmons from filing a complaint against you for excessive force. That whole encounter was recorded, Beckett. You could have been reprimanded or lost your shield over it. He was watching out for you as much as he could."

"Is anyone going after Donovan or Simmons?" Kate demanded.

"Gates wants to go slowly and carefully to make sure she can make everything stick. And Marks couldn't tell us everyone who's working for Donovan. Gates isn't sure whom she can trust," Ryan explained. "And she's right, Beckett. Donovan, Simmons, and their people, are dangerous, especially since no one knows what happened to Bracken. He might be hiding out somewhere but still pulling the strings."

"If Bracken is really the one who was behind Donovan and Simmons, I don't think he's controlling things now," Castle said.

"Why Castle? What kind of crazy theory do you have now?" Esposito demanded."

Rick exchanged looks with Kate. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. "Just that if Bracken or someone with that much power were still in control of the situation, Marks wouldn't have survived to tell you any of this."

"You may be right, Bro," Esposito grudgingly agreed.

"Castle," Kate asked after Ryan and Esposito had departed from the loft, "what were you really thinking about Bracken?"

"I was thinking that Bracken's disappearance now makes perfect sense," Castle explained. "That is exactly how the kind of people I contacted through the company would operate. Marks saying Bracken is behind all this and Bracken's disappearance is no coincidence. I was never allowed to know exactly what those operatives could do, and they may have even refined their techniques since then, but I'm pretty sure that right now Bracken is not a happy camper."

* * *

Mason Wood ran his palm over his increasingly balding pate. Billy's disappearance could be a problem. Adding that to the news that Hammer was in deep cover somewhere in the field, and Hammer's previous patronage of Richard Castle, a picture was emerging. Castle was protecting Kate Beckett, a legacy target of Bracken's paranoia, and Hammer was protecting both of them. He could only hope that Hammer had killed Billy. If he had, the body would never be found, and the drug operation would continue uninterrupted. If anything, Bully's demise would be an improvement. It would no longer be necessary to funnel huge amounts of cash into PACs to buttress Billy's power. There were more interesting uses for the money. If Hammer had kept Billy alive and managed to extract information from him, that would be more dangerous. If Hammer felt there was a threat to anyone under his protection, there would be no stopping him. Mason would just have to keep his ear to the ground and have Cal do the same.

* * *

Things were quiet on the street. None of Simmons' people had been busted in days. That should have been a sign that Donovan was doing his job, but Simmons didn't believe the cop was that good or that smart. He'd been able to tip Vulcan to a police sting on occasion and help to get dealers bounced from custody, but as to exerting any real control in Simmons' territory, Donovan didn't have the brains or the balls. That's why Bracken kept him around. If he'd become a power player, that power would have been siphoned off permanently. That left the question; if Donovan wasn't keeping the cops off his people, who was, and why. Vulcan had seen this kind of a lull in police action before. It was the calm before the storm. Just before a major police operation, things would go quiet. It was a reliable enough sign that he'd been able to scrub his cutting rooms and clear out his people in time, on more than one occasion. He'd hate to have to do it again, especially now. Not only was production going full blast, but his new counting house was magnificent. The talent that was bused into the basement every morning would put the most upscale madam's stable to shame. He could relocate, but it would be expensive and disappointing. It wouldn't look good to the Russians with whom Bracken had recently built an alliance either. Simmons had one more step he could take before pulling the trigger on a mass evacuation. He could contact Cal. What Cal's connection to Bracken was, had never been clear, but Cal had always seemed to know what Bracken was up to, even before the big shot politician knew himself. Cal also had an incredible talent for keeping Simmons' people both tight lipped and out of jail. Vulcan decided to put out the coded signal that was a request for a secret meeting with the man who posed so well as an idealistic defender of the downtrodden. If he didn't get a response, then the next step would be very unpleasant, but essential.

* * *

Ryan knocked unnecessarily loudly on the door frame of Victoria Gates' office.

She could immediately detect the dark cloud over the detective's pale features. "Sir, I just heard from an old buddy of mine in narcotics. Vulcan Simmons has been found murdered. I checked with the primary on Simmons' homicide. He works out of the thirty-third. He said CSU doesn't have anything yet, but the ME determined that the shot was at point blank range and there were no defensive wounds. Simmons was shot up close and personal by someone he knew. If what Marks told us was true, Simmons may have been deliberately silenced."

Victoria snatched off her glasses and slammed them on top of the papers on her desk. "Damn! We'll have to move now, whether we're ready to or not."


	17. Chapter 17

The Push

Chapter 17

"This is a mistake," Marcus Donovan insisted when Captain Gates showed up at his door with Ryan, Esposito, four uniformed officers, and a warrant for his arrest.

"Oh, you'll get your chance to plead your case at trial," she assured him. "I'd advise you to hire a very good lawyer to do it for you."

Victoria personally snapped handcuffs on Donovan before he was led away.

"Javi," Ryan asked as they drove back to the precinct, "you think Donovan is going to find some way to wriggle out of this?"

"Are you kidding, Bro," Esposito snorted, "Six cops have already flipped on the guy. Have you seen the video? He's such an assclown, a couple of them were smiling when they did it. And from what I hear some of Simmons' people are squawking like birds too, trying to save their own asses. Donovan is going down so far, his head's gonna be sticking out in China. I can't wait to tell Beckett."

"You haven't called her yet?" Ryan queried.

"Nah, I wanted to tell her in person. Besides, after this, Castle should at least give us his floor seats for the Knicks."

Ryan shook his head. "I don't know how you're thinking about basketball. Beckett's still in danger. This isn't over you know. If Bracken is behind this, he's in the wind, and if he isn't, we still don't have a clue who is. So far, his is the only name that's come up."

"Chill dude," Esposito responded. "We haven't even started turning the screws on the people we've hauled in, including Donovan. Whoever it is, we'll nail 'em."

* * *

Kate shifted restlessly within the circle of Castle's arms. She was trying not to move too much. If Castle rolled into the wrong position, it still set the room spinning for him, and she didn't want to cause him more grief. Espo's demand for basketball tickets had been crass enough. Since when was a detective supposed to demand a reward for doing his damn job? If Castle had been annoyed, he hadn't shown it. He'd promised the tickets and added a month's free drinks at the Old Haunt, but when Espo left, she could see that Rick was still worried. That made two of them. Castle had said that Donovon and the rest of the catch swept up in Gates' net had just been bottom feeders, living off the leavings of bigger fish. It was the top of the chain that was important, and so far, there were no signs that it was being reached."

Castle had found some peace in one thing. He'd received word that Alexis's stay in France had been extended and he was glad that his daughter was out of the line of fire. He'd said that as far as he knew, the mercenaries he engaged were still guarding both Kate and himself, as well as watching out for Martha. Kate hadn't seen any sign of them, but then she might have doubted their skills if she had. She'd have to take it as a matter of faith that they were out there somewhere. Unfortunately, since her mother's death, Kate had never been very good at faith. Her incisions protested as she tried again to find a restful position. She felt Rick pull her close. "No bad dreams again, I hope," he murmured.

"No dreams at all. No sleep," she confessed. "I wish I…; I wish we could…."

"Use the most time-honored method to encourage slumber?" Castle finished "Kate when I dream, that's what I dream about. It induces a whole different kind of vertigo. Ever since you told me that I had no idea, my speculation has been unending. But Kate, it's been three years. I can wait a little longer until you're whole again, until we both are, really. Then, the earth will move. The Angels will weep."

"You stole that from an old Harrison Ford movie," Kate accused.

"I only steal from the best." Castle grinned. "Good, a smile. We will get through this Kate. We can get through anything, like always, as long as we do it together."

* * *

The air in the interrogation room vibrated with Victoria Gates' scorn as she regarded Marcus Donovan. "You have betrayed this department and every cop who's ever worked like hell to protect the people of this city. If it were up to me, you'd rot in a cell on Rikers for the rest of your worthless life. But it's your lucky day. Our target is your boss, so you've been given a chance you don't deserve. You give us information that leads to a conviction, and the D.A. will recommend a minimum sentence in the segregated population."

"We'll need that in writing," Donovan's advocate demanded. "We all know that you don't have the power to make a promise like that and that you'd face no penalty for lying in here."

Gates' eyes flashed with fury. "You are sitting next to this man, and you have the temerity to talk about honorable members of this department lying!" Victoria stormed out of the box.

A.D.A. Toni Gonzalez watched Donovan from observation. "I should get in there."

"Give Donovan time to sweat," a suddenly calmer Gates urged.

"Look at him squirm," Esposito added, a smile of satisfaction creeping over his face. "He's ready to pee himself."

"You should try a cup of our coffee before going in, Ms. Gonzalez," Ryan advised. "We have a machine most Baristas would envy."

"So, I've heard," Toni agreed, "a gift from that crazy writer who followed Detective Beckett around. I can't understand why Captain Montgomery allowed that to go on for so long."

"I can't either," Victoria agreed. "That arrangement is not going to continue on my watch."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged looks.

"But there are much more urgent matters to address here, Gates continued. "The coffee is excellent, Ms. Gonzalez, regardless of its origin. The snacks in the vending machines in the break room aren't too stale either." Gates checked her watch. "Let's start again at two."

Donovan's scalp shone with sweat when Toni Gonzalez accompanied Gates into the interrogation room. Ryan and Esposito followed, taking seats flanking the women on either side. "Donovan." Toni began, "you know who I am and how I operate. I will get started on the paperwork for your deal, but not until I have a name."

"William Bracken," Donovan offered. "That's where the orders came from."

Gates rose from her seat, with Ryan and Esposito standing with her. "This is a waste of time. You're not the first one who's tried to invoke the name of a conveniently missing man."

Donovan could feel the constriction in his throat. "It is Bracken. I'm telling you the truth," he insisted, "but there's supposed to be someone else attached to Bracken somehow. I never heard a name, but I know it's someone connected with what goes on in court and with Simmons' drug business. I just hear him called, "The Springer."

"Springer," Toni repeated, "that's a generic for any of the lawyers who specialize in getting lowlifes out on bail, Donovan. You know that as well as I do. You're not helping yourself."

"Yeah," Donovan challenged, "well you look at who put Simmons' guys back on the street as fast as Narcotics could pull them off. You'll find a connection there, and when you do, you'll owe me for helping you find it."

* * *

"Donovan's claiming there's a lawyer involved in all of this?" Kate queried when she received a phone report from Esposito and Ryan.

"Yeah, Esposito confirmed, "but I think the dirtbag's trying to sh*t us or just stall for time. Maybe it is Bracken like Marks said. If it is, we're dead in the water until he sticks his head out of whatever sewer he's hiding in."

"If he sticks his head up," Beckett replied grimly. "If he is the man at the top, he could be in the Maldives or any other place with no extradition."

"Gates is putting every available cop that wasn't part of Donovan's brotherhood of grime, to work on checking out the disposition of cases of anyone collared for working for Simmons," Ryan added. "Maybe Donovan is telling the truth, and we might get lucky."

Kate raked her fingers through her hair. "Yeah. Thanks, guys."

"Hey," Castle offered after Kate shoved her cell in her pocket in disgust. "It is possible that Donovan was telling the truth about Bracken and whoever his corrupt legal eagle is. If so, there are records, Kate, records on multiple data bases that can't be wiped out in a fire. There's a trail, and a lot of cops have their machetes poised to hack away at it. We can too. Court cases make it into the public domain. We can search as well as anyone. Before Simmons was brought in for questioning after Raglan's shooting, I read his file. It's burned into my brain. I know who his associates are. We don't have to just to sit here and wait."

Kate did her best to produce at least a hint of a smile. "Alright, Castle, let's get to it."

* * *

Hammer eyed the transcripts of the conversation Kate Beckett had with Ryan and Esposito, and of her exchange with Castle. "A lawyer," he muttered to himself. That confirmed the information he'd finally and painfully extracted from Bracken. Wood had his protégé filling the gaps left by Donovan's less than competent performance. If Wood's boy was smart, he'd go to ground, but he might just be arrogant enough to stay where he was. It was time to provide a little subtle guidance for his son. It wouldn't take much, he mused with a frisson of pride. Even in his younger days, he'd never had the memory Richard did. The boy was showing some real talent.


	18. Chapter 18

The Push

Chapter 18

When an alert trumpeted from Castle's cell phone, he couldn't get it out of his pocket fast enough. "What is that?" Kate asked.

"It's the alert I set for any news of Bracken." Castle quickly scanned through the story that had been posted seconds before. "He's been found, Kate, on a beach on Long Island, not far from his home. He claims he doesn't know where's he's been or what happened to him. He's been taken to a hospital for evaluation, but there's already a warrant out for his arrest."

"He's got to be lying," Kate asserted. "He's just building a defense for himself. If he claims he can't remember, he could be declared incompetent to stand trial. And all the publicity will pollute the jury pool."

"But why would he bother to do that?" Castle wondered. "It's like you said before. If he's lying, he could have gone anywhere. Now that he's been found, they can freeze his assets, and everything Marks and Donovan said becomes public. The only way the story makes sense is if whoever took him, wanted him back here to face the music."

"Who would do that, Castle?"

Castle shook his head. "I don't know Beckett, but we do know that he's still got at least one partner out there. We need to get back to searching for the elusive lawyer."

* * *

Castle's head was pounding in a way it hadn't since Kate had begun sleeping in his arms, but he didn't dare take his eyes from his computer screen. Despite her dogged efforts to stay awake and pursue the chase, Kate had fallen asleep at her keyboard, and Castle had carried her to bed. He was on his own. He'd narrowed his search down to three lawyers who'd showed up to secure the release of Simmons' minions. He was digging into their histories for additional clues. They all had connections to the drug world, that was no surprise. None of them had any known ties to Bracken. That was no surprise either. There was one who had a history that a fledgling novelist would love. He'd worked at high levels with a cartel, then inexplicably left the money behind, to fight for the legal rights of those too poor to have anyone else stand up for them. Or so the narrative went. It wasn't a story Castle would have written. He believed in redemption stories. Joss Whedon had created a character that had one of the best ones Castle had ever seen. Sometimes he thought of Joss' rebel captain as a personal totem. But redemption could not come easily. It required not only an awakening but a price. Perhaps Mr. Brown had experienced the first stage, although there was no indication as to why it would have taken place. Brown appeared to live a simple life, but there was no record that he'd given his ill-gotten gains to charity, or divested himself of any assets. He'd sold his big house, but the funds could easily have been stashed overseas. He seemed to travel a lot for a cut-rate attorney, or least there were periods when he was absent from the courts. He was also a polyglot, something that would be helpful in the drug trade. Brown reminded Castle of some of the operatives in the company. They had plausible covers unless you looked deeply beneath the surface, then details of their behavior began to depart from the norm. The company had more than a few connections to the drug trade. In more than one instance, when it was funding erstwhile friends, it had supported the vile enterprise. Then as alliances changed, drug trade that had flowed freely was interdicted or transferred to the control of new friends. The whole business was dirty and reprehensible. Rick was glad he was no longer actively involved. Or maybe he was.

He rubbed his eyes. It didn't help. The letters blurred on the screen. He'd gone as far as he could for the moment. He could rest a few hours with Kate, then let her poke whatever holes she could in his story-line.

* * *

Kate awoke disoriented, but not apprehensive. She remembered being at her computer. Obviously, she wasn't there now. She was still wearing the sweats she'd had on, but her shoes were off and the barrette that had been holding her hair on the top of her head, had been removed. She was under the comforter that normally topped the bed, and so was Castle. She could feel the warmth of him against her back. His arms came around her more tightly as he mumbled, "Don't get up, stay in bed."

Kate gently rolled over to look at him, He was still about three quarters asleep, with eyelashes that were wasted on a man, fluttering slightly. Her voice was raspy from the dryness of her throat. "Castle."

"Mm, Kate." His eyes flew open. "Kate, I think I found our lawyer. Maybe. The story fits."

"Castle, we need more than a story."

"Let me show you what I've got," Castle urged. "Groaning slightly as the incisions in her chest protested leaving the comfort of the bed, Kate followed Castle to his office where he sketched out what he'd found on Caleb Brown."

"Castle, I follow your reasoning, but it's not enough. "We need proof - and I need coffee."

"That makes two of us," Castle said. "Flavor Country or French Roast?"

Kate pushed her hair back from her face, wondering what Castle had done with her barrette. "Whatever has the most kick."

Castle filled two mugs from a freshly brewed pot of French Roast. Kate wrapped both hands around the warm ceramic and sipped slowly. "I wonder if the N.Y.P.D. has come up with anything else?"

Castle shook his head. "Ryan or Espo would have called us, especially Espo. He'd probably want another month of free drinks."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think that bothered you."

"Yeah, usually I just let it roll off. He's just peeing around the border of his turf. I get it. But sometimes he pushes the limits, and this isn't just any case. This is about your life. Aside from the fact that it's his job, that should be more than enough reason for him to move his ass. I…."

Castle's phone dinged with a text. There was no ID, just a code, and a picture. He stared at it before returning wordlessly to his office and bringing up two images on his big screen.

"Castle, that's Bracken. Who's the other man?" Kate queried.

The muscles in Castle's jaw bulged as his eyes hardened. "That's Caleb Brown" He held up the picture on his phone for Kate to see. Three men were meeting in what appeared to be a garage, Simmons, Bracken, and Caleb Brown."

"Castle, did that come from the CIA?"

"That's what the code attached to it means," Castle replied.

"It could have been photo-shopped, or have been produced by whatever the high tech program the CIA uses."

"It could," Castle agreed, "But why would it be, Kate? Someone in the company is trying to use us to clean house, maybe the same person who was holding Bracken. Maybe he got what he needed to know from Bracken, and he's using us and the N.Y.P.D. to finish sweeping up. We should call Ryan."

Kate nodded slowly. "I guess we have no choice."


	19. Chapter 19

The Push

Chapter 19

Gates gazed suspiciously at Ryan. "You say all this came from a confidential informant."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan confirmed. "But I've double checked all of it, except the picture. It tracks. Caleb Brown is the connection between Bracken and Simmons."

"And have you been able to get anything out of Bracken?" Gates asked.

Ryan shook his head. "He's still in the hospital. The doctors say his condition hasn't changed and it would impede his possible recovery to put him under the stress of questioning right now."

Gates rolled her eyes. "Well, that's convenient."

"Sir, I'd like to put a surveillance team on Brown," Ryan proposed. "He knows we don't have enough to charge him and if we bring him in now, it will just tip our hand."

Gates gazed at Esposito, who was standing two feet from Ryan, with his arms crossed over his chest. "Do you agree with your partner's request, Detective?"

"Yes, Sir," Esposito confirmed reluctantly.

"Fine then. You two can take the first watch and determine if there's anything to what we have from Ryan's - source. I'll give it forty-eight hours, and then I want a full report."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan agreed.

Esposito unlocked their unit and sullenly slid behind the wheel. "Javi, what the hell is wrong with you?" Ryan demanded. "Castle came up with something that we couldn't, that our people couldn't, and it's not the first time. He's been doing it ever since he's been working with Beckett. You're acting like he's some junkie giving us a tip to pay for his next fix."

"Yeah, well, Castle's fix is Beckett." Esposito retorted.

"Sonofa… Javi, you're jealous! You were hard enough on Castle when he was just following Beckett around, but now that she's staying at his place…, not cool man. What about Lanie?"

"I like Lanie. We have a lot of fun together. And I'm not jealous," Esposito protested. "I just think Beckett deserves someone better than that writer, that's all."

"Sure, Castle is rich, handsome, and worships the ground she walks on. And oh yeah, knocked down the door of a burning apartment to get her out and put himself in front a shooter to try to save her. Uh huh, I'm sure she could find someone much better than that," Ryan returned.

Esposito banged his palms against the steering wheel. "When you put it like that…, yeah fine. Let's just go watch the lawyer."

* * *

Mason Wood watched the two cops drive up in front of the building where Caleb Brown's sparsely furnished law office was situated. Their unit was unmarked, and they were in plain clothes, but the scent of cop would have been unmistakable, even if he hadn't known they were the ones who worked with Kate Beckett. This was bad. He could think of at least four different ways he could terminate their surveillance with extreme prejudice, but if he did, it wouldn't quash the investigation of Brown. If anything, it would ramp it up. And he had no idea what Bracken might say or do if questioning of him was finally permitted. So far that had been prevented, but the pressure was building. At least he could put that complication to rest. The trauma of whatever horrible things the man had endured would be too just too much for the poor soul. The only question in Mason's mind was whether Bracken should have a fatal heart attack, or perhaps a stroke that would disable him so completely that his what would be left of his mind would be trapped in a useless shell. He'd managed to get his hands on a great drug the Russians had developed to produce just that state. It struck more fear into dissidents than death did. Wood stroked the stubble forming on his jaw. Yes, the career of a promising leader brought to the most tragic of ends; that would be a narrative the media would lick from a spoon.

* * *

Bracken restlessly flicked through the channels available on the hospital television. In his ward, they limited access to news channels, on the theory that news might upset the patients. He didn't belong in a psych ward. He remembered everything that white haired bastard had done to him. He remembered too well. He could still feel the ghost of the burning liquid in his veins. But he couldn't admit to what had happened. It would create more questions than he could answer. It was best to use the Watergate defense; "Senator, I do not recall." Also, even if there were guards outside his door, being in the psych ward kept him from being carted off to someplace much worse. He still had friends or at least allies. The drug trade on much of the Eastern seaboard depended on his support and protection. That in turn, was the interest of his partner in the enterprise. Wood had no way of knowing Bracken had betrayed him, or the rest of the operation. Wood would find a way to cut him loose. He'd just have to be patient. He just wished there was something on besides reruns of _Law and Order_.

* * *

It hadn't taken much effort for Wood to counterfeit a hospital ID. The idiots didn't even use holograms or chips, just pictures, names, and bar codes. He gazed at the picture he'd encased in plastic laminate. He always expected to look younger than he was. He supposed everyone did, but the years had been good to him. As his hair had vanished, his offshore accounts had grown. When this business was settled, he'd do a better job of disappearing than Bracken had. There was a little business to tie up in L.A. He hated to leave his band of would be Sherlocks behind. They'd given him some of the best laughs he'd had in his life. He'd planted the clues, and they believed themselves to be master detectives. He could find other pleasures. There were places in the Middle East where anything a man could dream of, and some things which most men lacked the capacity to imagine, could be had.

He toyed with the idea of taking Caleb with him. He'd enjoyed training the young man, and Caleb had some very interesting appetites of his own. It would be a shame to bring that relationship to an end. Still, eliminating him was the safest option. He'd have to avoid the cops, and create a workable scenario to send Caleb to his final destination, but once he was sure Bracken had been taken care of, that would be easy enough.

Wood checked his phone for the app that would send out a signal to scramble the output from the security cameras. Even if he would appear to be a doctor giving a patient an injection, it would not be wise to allow any record of his activities to exist. The brutal vial and a hypodermic were in the left pocket of his lab coat. The means to make Bracken submit quietly were in the right one."

Bracken's face lit when he saw Wood. "Damn! Finally. Can you get me the hell out of here?"

Wood's right hand found the can in his pocket and gas whooshed into Bracken's face. Bracken slumped against his pillows. "I'm going to send you on a journey," Wood replied. Carefully filling his syringe, he made sure there were no air bubbles. An embolism would end Bracken's story and his suffering too slowly. Wood shot his savage fluid into Bracken's arm."


	20. Chapter 20

The Push

Chapter 20

Rick and Kate watched the recap of the news report together. William Bracken, the senator who had been arrested in connection with a number of crimes, after a mysterious disappearance and reappearance, had suffered a devastating stroke, leaving him unable to move or speak. The reporter expressed her feelings that regardless of what the senator might have done, thoughts and prayers should go out him and his family. "They wouldn't want my thoughts and prayers," Castle declared. "But this was no coincidence, Kate. Someone shut the man up."

"Castle, how do you give someone a stroke?" Kate queried. "Besides, if someone wanted to shut him up, wouldn't it have been easier just to kill him?"

Castle shook his head. "It was no secret in the company that strokes like that could be induced, but it was a tactic of the other side. Our people considered it inhumane, at least officially; as if it was humane to look the other way when drug profits were used to pay for weapons. Killing Bracken would have deepened the investigation into what he did. This will build public sympathy for him and bring the investigation to a screeching halt. Simmons is dead, and Bracken might as well be. The drug operation has been mopped up. There's not much reason to devote many resources to finding Simmons' killer. From a public safety point of view, good riddance to both of them. It's all very clever, in a sociopathic way."

"Caleb Brown will still be a person of interest," Kate insisted.

"But for how long?" Castle asked. "How long before Gates, or some bureaucrat above her, tells Ryan and Esposito to shove the box the evidence against Brown, onto a shelf in the archives, with the other cold case files?"

Kate chewed her lip. "I don't know. Then where does that leave me, Castle?"

"I don't know Kate. With Bracken and Simmons gone, with luck, it may leave you out of the line of fire. We don't know who took Bracken and Simmons out. It may be a power play that has nothing to do with you. If it was Caleb Brown, he might just decide to get the hell out of Dodge. I would if I were in his shoes. But if there's someone else involved…." Castle spread his hands helplessly.

"Give me the silver lining, Castle," Kate urged.

"It's obvious that we still have an ally in the company and our guardians are still on duty. Whatever is happening, you should be safe here. We both should."

* * *

Caleb Brown slid behind the wheel of the aging Honda Civic that fit his heroic persona, to a "T." Something wasn't right. The seat adjustment was the tiniest hair off as if someone had slid it forward and then tried to return it to its former position. In a more expensive car, the seat position would have been recovered automatically, but in this one, it was entirely by feel. Obviously, the intent of whoever had been inside was not to steal the vehicle. It hadn't been moved. Having the seat closer to the dash would have made it easier to slip something underneath it. Caleb used the tips of his fingers to search every inch beneath the instrument panel. He finally felt a tiny device that had been attached with a pressure sensitive adhesive and pulled it free. He'd never seen one before, but he suspected what it was. The company had long abandoned such methods as cutting brake lines to produce unfortunate accidents. Forensic investigators had become too adept at spotting the damage. When the company needed a death unlikely to be questioned too thoroughly, tiny EMP emitters, set to activate when the car achieved the g-forces that indicated rounding a curve at a set speed, were used. Unfortunately for the driver, the control systems on the cars went out at a critical moment. Usually, an accidental death was declared pretty much on the spot. If not, it was easy enough to steal the device back out of an impound lot or garage. Engineering such a death was not only the sort of thing his mentor would do, but Mason would also enjoy doing it. Caleb let out a long breath. Mason was getting ready to run, and Caleb was a dangling thread to be trimmed. Well, Mason was not the only one with a pair of shears.

* * *

Woods was looking forward to his trip to L.A. He'd carefully laid out a plan for his detectives' last case. They would be receiving a series of clues from their mentor, reaching out from the grave, asking them to solve his murder. There would be pitfalls along the way, and his body would be missing, of course. Eventually one of them would reach the conclusion that Mason's body had been effectively disposed of, never to be seen again. Wood would have painstakingly framed one of them for the murder. When the perpetrator was unmasked, while steadfastly protesting his innocence, the group would sadly disband, according to Wood's last wishes. He wished he could be around to watch the fun, but once things were in place, he would be on his way to Dubai. After he'd indulged in the unique luxuries to be enjoyed there, more awaited him on a private island.

There had been no reports of the death of Caleb Brown. That was not disturbing. In fact, it was in keeping with Wood's plans. He'd set the parameters on his device to coincide with a particular curve on the way to a certain house in Westchester County. The house catered to specific needs of the male and occasionally the female population of the New York area. Wood knew that Caleb was a frequent client. The madam gave him regular updates on Caleb's activities. Caleb never went longer than nine days without a visit, and Wood had planted his device to time out well with Caleb's next expected trip. Caleb's car would have plunged over a guardrail, into thick woods. It could be days or months until it was spotted, and society officially mourned for the heroic Caleb Brown. Wood had checked Caleb's communications. The man had gone completely dark. Wood was sure his former protégé would be in the dark forever.

Wood drove out to an isolated airfield that didn't exist and climbed aboard a plane that had never been sold to the U.S. government. There was no TSA, and no one questioned what might be in his luggage. His flight would be swift and uncomplicated. Caleb watched from the thick trees that surrounded the clandestine location. He had a transponder that allowed him to be in the area without challenge. He had no doubt Wood was heading for L.A. He always did when he was feeling full of himself and wanted to manipulate his human playthings there. That would fit in with Caleb's plans perfectly. He would take a commercial flight, under one of the many identities he'd set up for himself in the past few years - one that Wood had no idea existed. Once in LA, it would be easy enough to monitor Wood's activities and figure out the perfect time to put his own scheme into effect. As the thrill of his plan electrified his body, he needed one last trip to the ladies in Westchester, before departing for the West Coast.

* * *

Hammer had observed the machinations of Wood and Brown with some amusement. He'd had reports of Wood at the hospital but didn't know for a fact that Wood had taken Bracken out of the fight. It could have been mother nature delivering on Bracken's karmic reward, but Hammer didn't believe in karma. If he did, he couldn't do his job. The strongest possibility was that Wood had done the deed. It was a shame. Richard would have enjoyed seeing Bracken skewered by the legal system. Hammer imagined that Kate would have enjoyed it even more, but the outcome so far wasn't bad. His people had spotted Wood tampering with Caleb Brown's car and Caleb discovering the man's gambit. There was satisfaction in knowing they had turned on each other. With any luck, the only final elimination necessary would be of the last man standing. That would leave a lot less to explain or cover up. All in all, things were unfolding just fine. With any luck, it would not be long until Rick and Kate were in the clear and this operation could be closed down. Much as he took pleasure keeping tabs on his son and his lady love, as well as watching out for Martha and Alexis, there were tasks in other parts of the world that would soon require his attention.


	21. Chapter 21

The Push

Chapter 21

Caleb's flight had been miserable. In his identity as a marginally successful salesman, he'd been forced to allow himself to be assigned to a middle seat. His knees were halfway to his chest. To make matters worse, the aftereffects of his pleasures in Westchester had left him stiff and sore. It had seemed worth it at the time, but his body had long ceased its appreciation of Mistress Lash's attentions. The overpriced but inferior scotch he'd drunk on the plane had done little to ease his discomfort and had thrown him off his game. He'd had only a couple of hours of rest before attempting to put his plan in motion.

Caleb fingered the small device in his pocket. He'd secreted it inside the case of a cheap calculator. When he'd placed it in a bin to be scanned, TSA hadn't given it a second look. They'd been more adept at spotting over-sized bottles of shampoo, than electronics that didn't belong inside a calculator. Caleb had let Wood set up whatever game he had planned for the band of adoring gumshoes he used to stroke his ego. He knew that after a playing with his toys, Wood enjoyed a drive along the Pacific Coast Highway, to clear his brain for his next step. His brain would be cleared for the last time. The death he'd chosen for Caleb would be his. No doubt it would be investigated by Wood's sad band, but they would be chasing multiple red herrings, as Wood had bragged over a few beers his complicated scenarios always caused them to do. Caleb could return to New York untouched by suspicion of any kind. He might even have time to get a massage. Some of the ladies in Korea Town were exceptional.

It was truly unfortunate for Caleb that he never witnessed how Wood had rigged the car he kept garaged in LA. As one of the many misdirections he'd intended for his eager apprentices, any weight over 150 lbs. in the driver's seat, would detonate a block of explosive below it. Caleb had seen a wiry valet safely take the vintage sports car for a spin before parking it. The lawyer failed to check for a pressure sensitive bomb. Caleb's one moment of carelessness was his last. As overloaded as the M.E. was, and with the clues already planted, the fragments of body parts left after the explosion were assumed to belong to Wood.

It wasn't the way Wood had planned things to go, but he'd seen Caleb enter the car. He had no idea how the man had survived his first attempt to take him out, but now his former protege was finally removed from the picture. It upset Wood's timetable a bit. He'd have to return to New York to clean up any mess Caleb had left behind.

* * *

The internet was full of news of the sad death of the master of detection Mason Wood. Hammer viewed it with some satisfaction. No doubt Caleb Brown had taken him out. A hack into the security footage at the L.A. Airport and facial recognition had revealed Caleb's arrival there. He had yet to return to New York. Hammer could activate a monitor in L.A., to make sure Brown hadn't left, until Hammer could make it to L.A. himself. Unfortunately, Hammer had a high-level assassin posing as a low-level diplomat to dispatch first, and then he had to deal with some ugly business out of the country. He'd need his people as back up for the latter mission, but he felt safe pulling them out of the apartment across from the Castle loft. With Wood gone and Brown in L.A., Richard and Kate were out of danger. He'd even send Richard a bill, then make sure the money was slowly dribbled back into his son's accounts and his granddaughter's college fund. Alexis could be allowed to return home as well. Durand had passed on a few pictures of her touring vineyards. She was becoming as beautiful as her grandmother. Hammer wished he could have a few moments with Martha, but he'd already stretched his no ties rules beyond its limits. It was time get his head back into the real game.

* * *

Castle stared at the letter that had arrived my messenger. The million dollar charge was in a bold font. "What is it, Castle? Kate asked.

"It's from the merc. who's been running our security. It says the threat has been eliminated, and it has instructions on where and how to wire the money. You're safe, Kate. We both are."

"That's great, Castle if it's true. How much does he want?"

"It doesn't matter," Castle replied. "There's no way I could put a price on your life – or mine or my mother's. I'll put out a feeler to make sure this is legitimate, but if it is, we'll all be fine. After the nurse practitioner who came to examine you filed her report with your physician, you received some news too, didn't you?"

"Mm hm, but not as earthshaking as yours. I'm still not allowed to lift anything or start physio, but my doctor said I could walk reasonable distances now."

"Good thing that, considering how much pacing you've been doing." Castle waved the piece of paper in his hand. "If this checks out, we should plan an outing. I know how much you've been chafing against having to stay put."

"Castle you have no idea how incredible getting out sounds."

The terse "affirmative" came back with the proper code, and Castle began planning where to take Kate. Other than an occasional hamburger at Remy's or a trip to the comfort food truck or The Old Haunt, they'd never had a date. Kate had always pushed away any hint of romance. Clearly, when they shared his bed, it still couldn't lead to more than warmth and comfort. But a date would be a step forward in their journey together.

Castle decided that the ten-block long Prince Street would be the perfect walk. It was only a short cab ride away. They could stroll as slowly or as quickly as Kate could manage, past the majesty of Saint Patrick's cathedral, before heeding the siren call of McNally Jackson, one of the few remaining independent book stores. If Kate was up to it, they could check out the food court where Bob Dylan had dined. Castle suspected Kate would be drawn to the offerings of Macaroni Macaroni, but a myriad of choices awaited to please her palate. After another cab ride home, they could snuggle in front of the fire. He could feel her softness in his arms just thinking about it.

* * *

Mason Wood would not have an easy time getting back to New York. Money was not a problem. Access to all his accounts was by number. The problem was with identification. The company, as well as the world, considered him deceased, and he wanted to keep it that way. He couldn't just flash a driver's license or passport in any of the many cover identities he'd built up over the years, to get on a commercial flight. They would have been flagged. Faking a government ID was more complex than producing a hospital badge, and required equipment he could no longer access. Company transportation options were closed to him as well. There were charter services that could be paid in cash and asked few questions, but he'd have to pick one that wasn't under surveillance by any government agency. That meant moving slowly and carefully, but taking some time would be all right. In her current condition, Kate Beckett would not be traveling any distance, and from what he knew of Rick Castle, he would not stray far from her side. The final pieces would be cleared from the board soon enough.


	22. Chapter 22

The Push

Chapter 22

Rick's outing with Kate did not go as he'd planned. It went better. He had no idea whether she had taken his arm as they walked, for support or just because she enjoyed holding on to him, but either way, on his arm was where he wanted her to be. She'd seen Saint Patrick's too often to be impressed, but McNally Jackson put delight in her eyes as they explored the offerings together. He'd ended up with a shopping bag of selections to help her fill the hours of her convalescence. As they continued their walk, Kate decided that she'd prefer something more private to the buzz of New Yorkers barreling past in search of sustenance. She also had a taste for Italian food. Together she and Rick discovered a tiny table in a tinier restaurant, where even Rick had never been before, but almost instantly vowed to return. They were greeted at their table by the proprietor, who verbally offered the short list of the available dishes crafted with freshly made pasta. The aroma of fresh herbs wafting from the nearby kitchen promised a gustatory delight. They were not disappointed. After they had topped off their meal by splitting an order of tiramisu, accompanied by small cups of rich espresso, they walked again, with Kate's head pressed against Castle's shoulder. Her eyes were heavy when Castle signaled for a cab.

When they returned to the loft, Castle lit the fire while Kate settled contentedly into the piles of cushions on the couch. She leaned against him as he joined her and put his feet up on a nearby ottoman. As he slid down to better pillow her head against his chest, the room briefly tilted, but righted itself before his dinner rose in his throat. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, wondering where the path of their relationship was heading. Kate would be with him until she was well enough to be on her own, but what then? Alexis would be home the next day. Would Kate find living with a teenage girl inhibiting? Or worse, would she find having a relationship with a father, intimidating? Kate and Alexis normally got along well, but after Montgomery's funeral, Alexis been angry at the danger the whole family faced because of Rick's partnership with Kate. Now that the danger was past, he wondered if Alexis would accept his and Kate's growing closeness. Even with the death of Kate's mother resolved and the danger from Bracken and his associates eliminated, there were still potential obstacles to being with Kate. If Ryan were to be believed, the new captain would not be the least of them. At least Rick wouldn't have to worry about that until Kate was ready to return to work. There were still months to go. He could hear the soft whisper of sleep, emanating from Kate's mouth. Date time was over. He would hold her through the night, but he doubted that the questions swirling in his head would quiet enough for him to take his own rest.

* * *

The plane bearing Mason Wood landed on an out of the way private airfield, unused by most air traffic. Before meeting with the pilot, Wood had changed his appearance. His balding hairline remained, but he was now a redhead. Brown contact lenses had transformed his eyes. A scar on his cheek and a slight limp would be the most memorable features to an observer. He also had enough padding on his body to look thirty pounds heavier. If the pilot were ever questioned, his description of his passenger would be nothing like the sadly late Mason Wood. Mason caught a ride with the pilot to a nearby town where Craig's list had indicated several cars were available immediately for cash. Mason picked the most nondescript of them for the drive into New York, avoiding traffic cameras as much as possible and scrupulously obeying traffic laws. He took up residence in an SRO where the manager very much appreciated payment in cash. The accommodations were far from luxurious, and very well loved by New York's insect population, but as soon as he'd tied up the remaining loose ends, he would live the life he had long desired.

* * *

It was taking longer than Hammer would have liked, to finish up his business in Chechnya. Having Russians try to kill him was nothing new. He had the scars to prove it. He would rather have eliminated Volkov after he and his wife had tried to spring a trap on him, but there had been a political entanglement. Hammer had been instructed just to make sure the man was imprisoned in Chechnya. He didn't like his orders, but after the slack he'd been cut to protect his son, he felt especially obligated to follow them. He'd only managed to communicate with his monitor in L.A. once, but there had been no sign of Caleb Brown. The monitor's report indicated that Woods's detectives had yet to get close to determining who killed their mentor, but that was no surprise. The only prints found in the car, other than the valet who parked it, belonged to Wood. That was not considered remarkable since it was Wood's car. Trace DNA had been denatured by heat and with the cause of death instantly apparent, the analysis of the few bits of a body recovered, had been pushed to the end of the queue. Caleb had obviously gone to ground, which was just as well. It would give Hammer time to get to L.A. to hunt him down, himself.

* * *

Castle awoke to the beckoning scent of coffee. Sleep had ] taken him only in the wee hours of the morning, and he was badly in need of caffeine. Still barefoot, Kate padded through the bedroom door holding two steaming mugs. "Oh, you're awake." She extended a cup to him. Castle reached for it gratefully.

Kate smiled. "I had a great time yesterday."

"No more than I did," Castle said. "Where would you like to go today?"

"Mm," Kate considered. "Somewhere near water."

"How about Waterfront Plaza at Brookfield place?" Castle suggested. "There's water and all those cool quotes."

"I bet you know them all, Castle," Kate teased.

"Well you could always quiz me when we get there." Castle suggested. "The seating is sculptured. It would be a great place to rest if you need to."

"I won't need to," Kate declared. "I feel stronger just from getting out and moving around again yesterday. I'm going to beat the doctor's schedule for going back to work, Castle."

Castle swallowed, before pasting on his best smile. I'm sure you will. So how about I make us some breakfast to go with the coffee, and we can see about letting you strut your stuff again in the world at large."

"It's a deal. Castle," Kate agreed.

* * *

Wood watched Kate Beckett and Richard Castle get into a cab. He wasn't about to try to follow. There was no point in it. They would come back, and when they did, he would dispatch them to a place from which there would be no return. It had been ridiculously simple to get the plans for the building, and even easier to find a way in. There was a tunnel directly connecting the basement to the building next door, which had a back entrance. It was locked of course, but there were very few locks he couldn't pick in a second or two. The company's training in covert entry had been excellent. He doubted that the lock and security system on the Castle loft would present more of a problem. When the happy couple returned, he would be waiting, and he would be ready.


	23. Chapter 23

The Push

Chapter 23

"Ugh, I need to talk to the manager about getting an exterminator in here," Castle said as he and Kate walked from the elevator to the door of the loft.

"I don't see any bugs, Castle," Kate said.

"Sometimes I'm more sensitive to odors since my concussion. I smell roaches. The apartment I had when I was nineteen was overrun with them, and I've hated that smell ever since."

"Did you smell it when we were leaving?" Kate asked.

"No," Castle admitted. "maybe someone stepped on one outside. I didn't smell it in the elevator. Perhaps whoever it was is an exercise enthusiast and took the stairs." Castle started to unlock the door. "I'm going to ask the manager, just in…." He sniffed as they came through the door. "It's in here too," he whispered, "and I know the loft was clean. Someone's in here, Kate. I'm sure of it."

"Castle, the department has my weapon. Let's get out of here and call…."

Wood emerged from Castle's office pointing a Glock 19. "Shame, Detective Beckett. If you'd had your police issue, we would have been a match. The helpful felon who sold me this one said he got it off a cop, a dead cop. You'll be joining him shortly, as will the fictionalizing chronicler of your activities."

Blood roared in Castle's ears as blinding rage overcame fear. He lunged at Wood, his greater size and weight knocking him to the ground. Wood's head cracked against the hardwood floor, and his gun skittered from his hand. Kate hurried to retrieve it, as Castle rained blows on Wood's face. "No! I'm not losing her!"

"Castle! Rick! Stop. We've got him, Babe," Kate called. She put a hand on Castle's shoulder. "It's all right. We've got him."

Ryan and Esposito, accompanied by four uniformed units, sirens screaming, arrived in record time, to cuff an unconscious Wood. Kate pressed a towel full of ice to Castle's swollen knuckles. "Castle, I think this looks worse than when you beat up Lockwood."

"Castle pulled her close with his good arm and kissed her hair. "Ask me if I give a damn. You know, Kate, I know who this is, or at least one of his identities. I've read about him. He's all over some of the blogs I subscribe to. The hair color is all wrong, and he's obviously in disguise, but this is the man who runs the Great Detective Society."

Kate leaned against Castle and put an arm around his waist. "Not anymore he doesn't."

"Castle, we'll have to call the paramedics to take sleeping ugly here to the hospital," Ryan said. "You want to go too? Get that hand looked at?"

"You should, Babe," Kate urged. "I'll be with you, every step of the way."

"No," Castle insisted. "Alexis is coming back from France today." He consulted his watch. "Her plane is landing in a couple of hours, and the limo will be bringing her here. Oh God, what if she'd come home a few hours early? I have to be here when she does, and she can't come home to a bunch of cops."

"Castle," Ryan promised, "we'll have the place cleared and make sure you get back here in time, even if we have to do it code three."

"Yeah that's right," Esposito agreed. "For a writer, you did all right."

* * *

"Message for you sir," a crewman said, as Hammer dozed in the netting that passed for a seat on the transport back to the United States.

"What the hell!" Hammer hissed as he took in the terse words. "Is this confirmed?"

"Yes, sir. It came in three stars," the crewman replied.

Hammer pushed himself out of his sling. I need to talk to the pilot.".

* * *

Castle did the best he could to hug his daughter, despite the cast on his hand. "Dad, what happened?" Alexis demanded.

"Just a little accident. A guy's jaw ran into my hand."

Alexis pulled back. "Wait a minute, the last time that happened was when you tackled the man who killed Captain Montgomery, when he was trying to kill Detective Beckett." She turned angrily on Kate. "It's all about you, isn't it? It's always about you. You're a cop, but my father is only a writer. How long before you get him killed? How long before you get all of us killed?"

"Hey!" Castle insisted, "this was not Kate's fault. If anything, it was mine for not having better security here, in more ways than one. But I'm going to fix that, right now."

"Sure Dad, right," Alexis retorted and stomped up the stairs to her room.

Kate chewed her lip. "She's right you know. This is all my fault."

"No, it isn't! I got the all clear, and I believed it. I know the boys have security teams watching the building, but it's not enough. I am going to fix this now, Kate. There is someone with whom I need to have a few words."

It was awkward trying to send a text with one hand, especially his left hand, but Castle managed. "Need to meet. Danger far from past. Mason Wood tried to kill us. WTF? You owe me $1,000,000."

Hammer was not surprised by the tenor of the text from his son. He could feel Richard's anger through the screen, and he didn't blame the kid. By not confirming the identity of the victim in Wood's car, he'd screwed up big time. He'd screwed up before, but he'd borne the brunt of his mistakes. Endangering his son, was worse, much worse, and could have been avoided with the proper level of skepticism of official reports. When his people had finally appropriated a few scraps of flesh from the M.E.'s office, the DNA revealed that the body was Caleb Brown. Wood must have had a good laugh. Richard would get his meeting, and the return of his cash. He owed him a lot more than that. At least Richard was still alive. Now he'd make sure that he stayed that way. Very soon, Wood would never be able to kill Richard, Kate Beckett, or anyone again.

* * *

"Is it done?" Kate asked when Rick returned from an hour away from the loft.

"My money was transferred back while I watched, but that's not the important thing. My contact said to watch the news tonight, and we'd see what would happen to anyone who tried to harm you, me, or any member of my family again. He'd better get it right this time."

Mika Kirsh could think of places she would rather be than doing a stand-up in front of a hospital, but all reporters had to pay their dues. At least she hadn't been assigned to stand in a street flooded by a storm surge just to show how bad conditions were. That had been her hazing her first month. This was a lot easier, if more boring. She raised her microphone as her cameraman counted down with his fingers. "Mason Wood, the former mentor of the Great Detectives Society, who was thought to have been killed in Los Angeles, surfaced today in New York, allegedly breaking into the home of one of our citizens, who allegedly attacked him in self defense. Police are still investigating the incident. Wood was brought to this hospital for treatment but was stricken with an unexpected setback. Doctors believe that he has suffered a stroke that has deprived him of all capacity to move or communicate. The hospital will be issuing updates if Wood's condition improves."

William Bracken could do nothing but watch as nurses brought Mason Wood into his room, transferred him to the bed next to Bracken's, and hooked him to tubes and monitors like the ones that tethered the former senator. "You have a new roommate, Senator Bracken," one of the nurses informed him while giving the readouts a final check before departing.

The looks of hatred in both men's eyes were all that they had left.


	24. Chapter 24

The Push

Chapter 24

"Dad, when's Detective Beckett leaving?" Alexis demanded as she made cocoa for two, while Kate napped.

"When she's ready," Castle replied. "She still can't lift anything. She hasn't even been able to start physical therapy yet. It will probably be another couple of months."

"And you like it that way, don't you?" Alexis accused. "You two slept together last night, didn't you?"

"If by sleeping, you are referring to closing one's eyes and relinquishing oneself to the land of nod, yes. If you are referring to having sex, no. With everything that's happened, we just sleep better in physical proximity, that's all. And she helped me shave this morning too. She isn't the only one who's going to need help for a while."

Alexis' eyes hardened. "And whose fault is that? Your hand wouldn't be broken if it weren't for her. How are you going to write? She can't do that for you."

"I have an app that translates spoken word into written text. You know that. It gets screwed up sometimes, but I can manage to edit it, or Kate can help me with that, or you can. And it wasn't that bad a break. The doctor said I'll be able to exercise my fingers and maybe get the cast off in three weeks. Before I met Kate, I went without writing for a lot longer than that. Alexis, whatever I did to save her, she saved me first. I'm grateful for that."

Alexis snorted. "Yeah. You're a lot more than grateful Dad. The way she treated you when you first started shadowing her, the way she talked to you, most people would have just taken a hike. You could have found another muse. But she isn't just a muse, is she? You don't want her to leave, ever. You're in love with her. Why not just admit it?"

"Alright, fine, I'm in love with her. What's wrong with that? She's a beautiful, brilliant, accomplished woman, and we're good together. Alexis, I chose to put myself in the line of fire. That was never Kate's fault. And even without sex, she's in my heart like no other woman has been, not even your mother or Gina, so give her a chance. Alright? Not for her, for me. Please."

Alexis poured rich dark liquid into mugs and threw marshmallows in on top. She set them heavily on the counter with a ceramic clunk. "I'll try."

* * *

Castle slid his hands slowly down the curves of Kate's body. Even beneath the silky nothing she wore, it caused a response in his body that heretofore would have been unwelcome and uncomfortable. But things had changed. Kate had succeeded in performing the most difficult tasks that Roger, her too handsome physical therapist, had set for her. She had yet to consider herself fully fit, but her doctor had pronounced her ready to return to the force, as soon as she passed her psych evaluation. And if she was ready to handle the mean streets, she was ready for other more pleasurable activities. Still, he was uneasy. Well, they could take it slow, as much as every fiber in his body wanted everything, all of her, at that very moment. He was no teenager. He could control himself. Maybe. He felt like a starving man who'd been looking in the restaurant window for months before being given a seat at the chef's table. Even if he was there now, it would be better to go course by course and savor every delicious mouthful.

"Castle," Kate whispered, laying her right palm gently against his cheek, "I'm fine. You won't hurt me. Her left hand found the nape of his neck, plunging her fingers into the soft hair which he'd allowed to grow past his collar. Their lips met, tentatively at first, then in an explosion of heat and long repressed desire. His mouth found the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder, tasting salt, and Kate - the uniqueness that was only Kate. She brought his hand to her breast, where he could feel the uneven texture of her scars. Those too were Kate, a reminder of what they'd both endured coming to this place, this time, to each other. He ran his fingertips lovingly over the raised flesh, before moving to what ached for his attention. Kate gasped, her body arching to him. They were caught in a vortex of need, drawing them ever closer to each other, and they clung tightly through every lash of the storm.

* * *

As Castle's eyes opened, he looked down to see the silk of Kate's hair splayed across his chest. He stroked it gently, inhaling the faint but sweet scent of cherries. Her lashes lifted slowly, her hazel eyes green in the morning light. Her voice was low and throaty with sleep. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you," Castle echoed. He reached for his watch on the bedside table and checked the time. "Alexis has an academic decathlon meeting before her first class. She's probably out of here already. And Mother has some kind of a workshop. What do you want to do today?"

Kate groaned a little as she stretched. "It's not what I want to do, Castle. It's what I have to do. Even if I'm physically able, I can't return to work until I pass a psych evaluation. I have to go see a Dr. Carver Burke. From what I hear, he asks some pretty tough questions. I'm not sure I'm prepared to answer them."

Castle smile and stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger. "This from the mistress of the tough question. I've seen hard core cons crumble beneath your steely gaze. You shouldn't have anything to worry about."

"That's not what I heard, Castle. He's kept some of the guys off work while they went through therapy. I want to get back. I want to feel like I'm doing my part for the people of this city again. And I need to go back to the precinct looking strong enough to convince the new captain to let you work with me."

"Kate I'm all for your regaining your strength, physical and mental. I'm with you all the way, whatever hoops the shrink decides to make you jump through. But you weren't the one who got me into the precinct in the first place. If you'd had your way, I wouldn't have been allowed within miles of it. Part of my being there was that Roy wanted me there, but I always had Bob Weldon behind me too. I've let him win enough poker hands to win his affections. We've had some adventures together, and writing a few fat checks to fill his campaign coffers didn't hurt either. I've talked to him a couple of times in the last couple of weeks. If Gates tries to throw me out, I can have her overruled."

"Castle, I'm sure you can, but how will Captain Gates feel about you if you do? If I were in her shoes, I'd resent you. I wouldn't be that pleased with me either. If I can have Gates see me in a way that will let me convince her that it's worth giving you a shot, we'll be a lot better off than if you play the mayor card. To do that, I'll have to be a hundred and ten percent in everything, my psych eval included."

Rick cupped her cheek. I think you're putting more pressure on yourself than you have to. Just go see this Dr. Burke today. Overwhelm him with the Kate Beckett charm. I'll take you there, I'll wait for you, and I'll bring you home. You'll see. Everything will be fine.


	25. Chapter 25

The Push

Chapter 25

Dr. Burke ushered Kate into his office, leaving Castle behind in the waiting room. Despite encouraging Kate to relax, for the first time in a couple of weeks, Rick's head was pounding, and the room was wavering. He was still within the three months the doctor had told him it would be likely for the effects of his concussion to reassert themselves from time to time, but he was close to the end of it. When he went back to work with Kate, if he went back to work with Kate, he couldn't do it like this. He resolved to face one problem at a time. Neither he nor Kate was going back to the precinct if Dr. Burke did not pronounce her psychologically fit. Fortunately, he and Kate had come by cab, and he would not need to get behind the wheel of a car to return to the loft. There was no way he could have driven, and Kate's incisions sometimes still pulled when she turned a steering wheel. Distracted by his own discomfort, for a moment he didn't know if the crash he heard was from within Burke's office or within his brain. When he heard nothing else, he assumed something in the office had fallen.

* * *

Kate was on the floor, shielding her head with her arms. Pieces of the vase Burke had pushed from his desk, lay on the floor near his desk. Kate barely heard the deep rumble of Burke's deep voice. "What happened, Kate?"

She scanned the unfamiliar room before slowly getting to her feet. "I thought I heard a shot."

"Was it a shot?"

"She regarded the shards on the hardwood floor beyond the area rug she stood on. No, it was the vase. You knocked it down. Why did you do that?"

"Kate I'd think that would be obvious. I wanted to see how you'd react. Most people would be a bit startled. You were more than startled, Kate. You were showing classic signs of PTSD. That's something we're going to have to do some work on before I can clear you to go back to work."

Kate raked her fingers through her hair. "Are you kidding me? Can't you give me a pill or something?"

"Kate, medication can help, but you need to cope with the root of your problem, your reaction to being shot, and whatever other traumas you've suffered. We'll need to set up regular sessions for a while, and we'll see what kind of progress you make."

"How long?" Kate demanded.

"There's no way to know," Burke said. "You'll just have to put the work in Kate, however long it takes."

Castle pushed himself out of his chair when the door to Burke's office opened. Kate's face was a stony mask as she walked past him to the elevator. He followed, barely making it in before the door closed. The descent of the elevator made his headache worse, and bile rose in his throat as he stared at Kate's stiffly held body. His voice rasped. "Kate, what happened?"

"Damn! That's exactly what Burke asked me, Castle. I lost it. I lost everything. He's not letting me go back."

Castle wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "You mean he's not letting you go back this week, right?"

"No Castle, I mean he's not letting me go back until I complete a course of therapy, and even then he wasn't issuing any guarantees."

Kate strode out of the elevator as the doors opened and Castle lurched after her. "Kate, wait!"

"Not now, Castle. I need to walk. I need to figure this out."

The lobby tilted and Castle leaned against the wall, thankful that his breakfast had been hours before. "Kate. No. Don't shut yourself off from me again. I can't…."

Kate turned back to him. "Rick, are you all right? I thought you were all right."

Castle swiped at the perspiration dripping toward his eyes. "And I thought you were all right. So, I guess we both still have some healing to do. Please, let us do it together."

Reluctantly, but concerned for Rick, Kate agreed to return to the loft. Castle wasn't sure he'd make it back without an unscheduled stop, but he managed to keep his insides where they belonged. When he and Kate arrived, he downed a couple of pills and propped himself up in his most comfortable position on the bed, while he waited for the medication to work. Kate paced the floor of the bedroom. "Hey, wearing a track in the floor isn't going to help anyone except the guy who refinishes it. Please, just come here and talk to me." Her back still stiff, Kate sat cross-legged on the bed next to him. "Tell me, exactly what did Burke say," Castle urged.

Kate's jaw clenched. "The bastard smashed a vase deliberately, and when I reacted to the sound, he accused me of having PTSD."

"And you don't think you do?" Castle asked.

Kate shook her head vigorously. "No! I mean I hit the ground, but cops are taught to do that."

"Kate, I've seen you around gunfire, and your reaction was always more like making sure everyone else hit the ground. Everything that's happened, the bullet that nicked your heart, then Wood coming in here, you can't just shake off effects of trauma like that. Couldn't Burke be right?"

"I-I don't know Castle. I just can't deal with some uncertain open-ended treatment regimen before I'm allowed to go back to work. I've been away way too long already."

"What about a second opinion?" Castle queried. "Maybe someone who works with veterans returning from combat. If anyone understands PTSD, it would be doctors who work with the military."

"Maybe, but my N.Y.P.D. health insurance only covers the doctors in their plan. For me, that's Burke."

Castle reached out to cup her chin. "Kate, if you'll let me help you, money isn't an issue, you know that. Compared to the rip off that merc. tried to pull for protecting us, doctor's appointments are chump change. And I can't think of a better way to spend the money. You should talk to Espo. I bet he knows someone or knows someone who knows someone."

Kate shook her head. "No way, Castle. I do not want this getting around the precinct."

"Alright," Castle agreed. "Mother's behavior, especially combined with Meredith's, drove me to the therapist's couch, a time or two. I can call the shrinks I know and see about getting a referral for you. I'm going to try hit up Columbia for another neurologist. Maybe I can get a referral there. I won't mention your name. It can't hurt to try."

"No, I don't suppose it can," Kate agreed reluctantly. "But make sure whomever you see at Columbia is the best." She squeezed his hand. "When I do go back to work, I want my partner at my side."

"Deal," Castle agreed.

* * *

Rick, I'll have to get a baseline reading of your cognitive tests from your records to be sure there was no deterioration," Dr. Milton related, "but since you scored in the very upper range, if there has been, I would not expect it to be significant. There's no sign of seizure activity on your sleeping EEG. It is of some concern that your balance is on the low side of normal, and you are showing a hypersensitivity to sensory stimuli."

"Hmm," Rick mused. "I have never been classed as graceful, although I am a better than decent fencer, and that last part can have a definite upside. So, what's your diagnosis, Doctor? More to the point, what's your prognosis?"

"From the history you've given me, I'd say you're still recovering from a concussion, but I don't see anything that will put you out of the game unless you're planning to take up ballet. I would urge you to be careful, especially on uneven ground, or where there might be unexpected obstacles. If the headaches become worse or more frequent or you have other symptoms, come in again to be checked out. Other than that, just give it time son, and try very hard not to get hit in the head again. As I'm sure you've been told, damage can be cumulative. Now regarding your friend with PTSD, no promises, but I can give the name of a colleague who is doing cutting edge work. It would be up to your friend to take it from there. I wish whoever it is, well."

Castle nodded. "Not nearly as much as I do, Doctor."


	26. Chapter 26

The Push

Chapter 26

Kate did not doubt that Dr. Pike Toner had served in the military. If the closely cropped hair and the ramrod straight bearing hadn't been a tipoff-off, the shrapnel scars on his arms and face would have been. Somehow the scars made her feel more at home in his office. At least for him, trauma was not something he had just heard about or studied, it was real.

"So, you took a bullet to the chest, and someone came to kill you while you were recovering, Detective Beckett?" Toner recapped.

"Yes," Kate confirmed.

"And you suffer from hyper alertness. Nightmares? Flashbacks.?"

"I had nightmares," Kate confessed, "but I don't when…."

"When what?" Toner pressed

"When I'm sleeping in my boyfriend's arms."

"The man in the waiting room?" Pike asked.

"That's right."

"It's a plus that he's here for you and I would never knock that kind of therapy. Human touch can have a host of beneficial effects. That's been documented. However, you may have been allowing it to mask your symptoms instead of dealing with them."

"So, what do we do?" Kate queried.

Toner pressed his lips together. "A course of treatment that has been working for my patients has involved having them relive the incidents that triggered their condition, while under the influence of a beta blocker, a type of drug that is often used to lower blood pressure and reduce the strain on the heart. Beta blockers also block the neurotransmitters involved in the laying down of new memories. In many cases, the process has been successful in desensitizing patients to those memories. The treatment is most effective when given within hours of the trauma, but it has been shown to have an effect in cases like yours as well."

"How many times would I have to go through the process?" Kate asked.

"Results appear after one treatment with the drug, but there have been relapses where treatment has had to be repeated. There is another problem in your case, however. Because your injury involved your heart, I'd want a full cardiac workup to make sure you can be treated safely."

"And how long would that take?" Kate asked.

"A day, once you can get one scheduled. Then if the results don't show an unacceptable risk, we can proceed. I can give you a referral to a cardiologist I work with."

"My heart is fine. My own doctor has all my test records," Kate protested.

"That's fine, Detective Beckett," Toner responded, "I will request them, but in this case, I would prefer that a cardiologist I have confidence in, make the determination."

* * *

"A cardiologist?" Castle echoed

"It's just for safety, Castle," Kate assured him. "Except for still having to regain some muscle strength and mobility, my doctor gave me a clean bill of health. I don't think that will change. I want to get started with Dr. Toner as soon as possible. His way sounds a whole lot better than endlessly pouring out my innermost feelings to Dr. Burke."

"We both know that kind of sharing has never been your style," Castle observed.

You're right Castle, at least since my mother was killed. But Toner might be able to get me back on the job. Get us back to on the job. Now it's just a matter of how long it will take to get in to see Toner's referral. I know with my doctor, if it wasn't an emergency, the appointments needed to be made a week or sometimes a lot more in advance. That's why he had his nurse practitioner do a lot of my routine checks."

"Give the guy a call and find out," Castle urged.

Kate smiled and batted her lashes. "Actually, it's a woman, Dr. Cherilyn Sparks."

"Let's hope Dr. Sparks will give you your chance to light a fire under the N.Y.P.D. again."

* * *

"Dad," Alexis announced to Castle, as he and Kate came through the door of the loft, "I want to go on a weekend tour of colleges with Buttons and her mother."

It took a moment for Castle to switch focus. "Are we talking about Buttons Dutton and the cruel conferrer of childhood appellations, Mrs. Dutton?" he inquired.

"Yes," Alexis confirmed.

"And which illustrious campuses were you planning to grace with your presence?

"We thought we'd do New England, visit Harvard, MIT, Brown, catch Yale on the way back if we have time. We also want to photograph what's left of the fall color to go with a poetry spread for the yearbook."

"I want to talk to Mrs. Dutton before you go, make sure you don't come back here as Tassel Castle."

Alexis rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Dad."

"Seriously, Alexis, while you're in Cambridge do not forget the cool brown ecstasy of burnt caramel ice cream. It would be a travesty to miss a visit to an historic purveyor of frozen confections that is in my estimation every bit as worthy of regard as the exalted institutions of higher learning that provide its clientele."

"I'll keep that in mind, Dad," Alexis said, bounding toward the stairs. "I'm going to go upstairs and decide what to pack."

"She barely looked at me," Kate observed after Alexis had left her alone with Rick.

"She didn't scowl at you either," Rick countered. "That's progress. I was thinking…."

"Darlings," Martha proclaimed as she swept down from her room above, "I will be spending the weekend at Plumb the Depths on the most marvelous retreat for those dedicated to the craft. Each guest is required to arrive in character and explore the very essence of the beings we inhabit, throughout our stay. It will be an exercise extraordinaire."

"Sounds, marvelous, Mother," Castle said.

"Yes," Martha agreed. "I am off to the yoga studio to infuse myself with life energy in preparation for my creative journey."

Castle waved at the dramatically retreating figure. "Enjoy, Mother."

"You were saying that you were thinking something, Castle," Kate recalled, as the door closed behind Martha,

Castle nodded his agreement. "And I'm thinking it even more now. With Alexis gone and Mother off on her acting adventure, we will be blissfully alone. What shall we do to distract you while you await admittance to the medical proving grounds of the vaunted Dr. Sparks?"

"We could watch a movie," Kate purred.

"Or read," Castle added.

"Or get something to eat," Kate offered.

Pushing back strands of hair from Kate's face, Castle leaned in for a kiss. "Or we could indulge in some energizing deep breathing of our own."

"Breathing is always good," Kate agreed.

"While Alexis is perusing her wardrobe for the perfect ensemble for campus adventures, we could indulge ourselves in a preview," Castle proposed.

"Castle, I always use previews to buy popcorn at the concession stand. Sometimes one of the huge boxes of candy, too."

"Hmm," Castle considered, "something salty and something sweet. I think we can find more intimate ways to indulge those cravings."

"I'm sure we can," Kate agreed. "I just hope Alexis takes her time packing."

"So, do I. But Detective Beckett, the bedroom door has a lock, and there is no reason we should not employ it. Alexis is preparing for college. She's decided she's an adult. Fine, she can behave like one. Barring fire, flood, or an attack by flesh eating zombies, my daughter can wait for my attention." Castle decided. He extended a hand to Kate, who entwined her slim fingers with his larger ones and gently leaned her head against his shoulder. Hand in hand they strolled toward the bedroom.


	27. Chapter 27

The Push

Chapter 27

Even if Kate hadn't looked the doctor up online, it would have been obvious to her that Cherilyn Sparks was not the kind of cardiologist whose practice revolved around patients who'd spent their lives eating too much fried food and spending too little time at the gym. Like Pike Toner, Sparks had a background in the military. She specialized in the treatment of traumatic injuries to the heart. Cherilyn looked up at Kate after studying the scans in her file. "I can see the bullet nicked your left ventricle. I've seen patients recover from worse, Detective Beckett. I understand that you've been stretching your physical limits in your recovery, perhaps overstretching them a bit. But then you have a reputation for pushing boundaries, as does your fictional counterpart."

"You read Nikki Heat books?" Kate asked.

"Richard Castle is my one guilty pleasure," Cherilyn admitted.

Kate's eyes narrowed. "Mine too."

"Yes, I noticed that he brought you here today. Are the two of you more than writer and muse?'

"I don't see how that has anything to do with my cardio evaluation," Kate protested.

"Relax, Detective," Cherilyn urged. "I was just going to suggest that if Castle is your significant other, you might want to have him present in our consultation, as part of your support system."

Kate relaxed back into her chair. "Yeah, I suppose so. He'll ask me what happened, the minute I get out of here, anyway."

Cherilyn nodded. "I'll have someone call him in."

Castle dropped into a chair next to Kate, holding out a hand to her. Unclenching her own hands, she reached for it, feeling the warmth of his firm grasp, flowing through her body.

"First the good news," Cherilyn announced. "Detective Beckett, your response to your stress test was excellent, so I am clearing you to begin therapy with Dr. Toner."

"So, what's the bad news?" Castle asked.

"The bad news is that scar tissue has replaced some of the muscle cells of Detective Beckett's heart. There was some additional damage that I would assume to be the result of blood loss and the pressure on her heart when she bled into her pericardium. That has created a weakness. Detective, may I call you Kate?"

Kate nodded.

"Very well," Cherilyn continued. "Now from everything I can gather from your records, Kate, you were in superb physical condition before your injury, and it is obvious that you have put every effort into your recovery. That has compensated in large measure for your injury. That is why I feel confident on signing off on your treatment with Dr. Toner. I also believe that when you return to active duty at the N.Y.P.D., you will be more than capable of performing your duties. However, it is likely, that you will never perform physically at quite as high a level as you did before your shooting. So, I would urge you to listen to your body, and not push the boundaries quite as hard as you may have in the past."

"You're quiet," Rick commented as he and Kate made the short walk from Sparks' office to the nearest subway station. "You can get your treatment from Dr. Toner. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"It is." Kate agreed. "I want to get past this thing and back to doing my job." Kate pulled at the hem of her shirt.

"I sense a but," Castle pressed.

Kate shrugged. "Not really."

"Kate, I know you. You have always been the best, top of your class at the academy, youngest woman to make detective, highest case clearance rate. Our stupendous adventures between the sheets notwithstanding, you do like to be on top. Could it be that you are disturbed by Dr. Sparks' suggestion that you might have to settle for a marginally lower perch, at least where it comes to knocking your opponents to the mat?"

Kate sighed, but said nothing, as they descended the stairs to the tight press of humanity awaiting passage on the next train.

* * *

"Oh no!" Castle exclaimed as he spied his mother in the kitchen when he and Kate returned to the loft. "Mother, you're cooking? Maybe we eat should out."

Martha looked up from her cutting board. "There will be no need for that, Richard. I met the most incredible man at Plumb the Depths. He's an actor. He's mostly been working on the stage in the West End in London, but he's also a gourmet cook. He gave me the most marvelous recipe."

Castle raise an eyebrow. "A gourmet cook from England? Home of boiled beef and carrots?"

"Richard, don't be snarky," Martha reproved. "His name is Burton Hemsley, and he's not from England, he's from Australia, like that delicious chef Curtis Stone, except with a few more decades to become distinguished."

"Ah, another hit on your graydar, Mother?" Castle questioned. "I thought you were taking a time out after Chet."

"A time out, Richard. That doesn't mean I permanently left the playing field." Martha dipped a spoon into a simmering sauce. "Here taste this."

Castle hesitantly touched his tongue to the mysterious fluid. "Mm. It looks like your Aussie might be a positive influence on you, Mother. You should bring him around. I'd like to meet him."

"Oh, you will," Martha enthused, "Burton will be here in half an hour."

"Excuse me," Kate said. "There's something I have to do."

Castle found Kate sitting on the edge of the bed with her elbows on her knees. He slid next to her, drawing her against him. "Kate, Mother's sauce really wasn't bad. We may make it through dinner without the need for a stomach pump."

"Castle you know this has nothing to do with Martha's cooking. I've lived through snacks from the precinct vending machines. I can eat almost anything. I just wanted some time to think tonight, not to sit through recountings of great moments in the theater, that's all."

"Fine. Mother and her new beau will have Alexis as an audience if they want one. You and I can make a little polite conversation, then excuse ourselves for a previous engagement. We could go back to that little Italian place we liked so much. It will be quiet, and you can do all the thinking you like."

Kate looked up at Rick. "Castle sometimes I…."

"You what?" Castle queried.

Kate shook her head. "Nothing. Great. Italian sounds good." The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Kate's lips. "But I want cannoli this time instead of tiramisu. I like the rich, creamy stuff in the middle."

Castle wiggled his eyebrows. "Good to know."

* * *

The only illumination at the table where Kate and Rick were seated, was a candle in a straw covered Chianti bottle. Rick gazed at Kate's face, shadowed in the flickering light. What were you going to say to me before?"

Kate raked back her hair and shook her head. "Castle, I'm not sure who I'm supposed to be anymore. Ever since I joined the force, it was all about finding my mother's killer. Now that's done. Bracken and his partner have both been consigned to the seventh ring of hell. And I'm not a cop anymore."

Rick reached for her hand. "You will be again, Kate. Toner's treatment will work. And if it doesn't we'll find something that will."

Kate pulled her hand free and slammed her palm against the edge of the table. "Castle, you were right. Even if the treatment does work, I won't always come out on top anymore. Where will that leave me?"

"It will leave you as whom you've always been, Kate, the most remarkable, maddening, challenging, frustrating person I've ever met. I've seen you at your weakest and your most needy. It never deterred me for a second. You're the woman I love."


	28. Chapter 28

The Push

Chapter 28

Castle awoke early. Dr. Toner had advised Kate to arrive at his office when it opened, but that it would be a few hours before the therapy session actively began. Like many waiting rooms, Toner's had a television screen. The piles of magazines were even from the current decade, but in Kate's current state of mind, Rick couldn't imagine her attention being held by game shows or casual reading material. The tablets he had obtained for both of them could access news and literature more suited to the moods Kate had been displaying, but he had little hope that whatever distractions they offered would be able to fully capture her attention either. He shrugged helplessly. He would hope for the best and bring them along anyway.

He made his special pancakes for breakfast, in part, to help keep the fragile peace with Alexis. He also hoped to coax something resembling a smile from Kate, decorating her flapjacks with faces made with her favorite extra dark chocolate morsels. Kate declined her cheerful plate, in favor of a large mug of coffee, minus the foaming skim milk and two shots of sugar-free vanilla she usually favored.

The cab ride to Toner's office was tense, with Kate silently absorbed in her own thoughts. Castle paid off the driver, adding an extra-large tip to compensate for the oppressive atmosphere during the uptown trip. Kate's gaze focused only on the doors of the elevator as they rode upward to the trial that awaited her.

* * *

Kate felt like she'd been waiting in Dr. Toner's office forever. He'd given her a pill when she'd arrived, but told her the highest concentration in her blood would occur at 3 hours, after which, it would decay exponentially, so they'd want to time things out just right to achieve the best result possible. She didn't feel as nervous as she'd anticipated she might. The drug was part of the reason. One of its effects was to minimize anxiety. The other factor was Castle's steadying presence. The usual torrent of words had not spouted from his mouth, as they both attempted to concentrate on the books they were reading from their tablets, but he was solidly at her side. That was what mattered.

Finally, Dr, Toner called her in. He instructed her to sit in a comfortable chair, as Dr. Burke had done, and told her to start telling him everything she could recall about what happened the day she was shot. Images swam behind Kate's closed eyes as every detail lashed at her mind. She could feel the weight of Roy Montgomery's casket, as she helped bear it to the front of a sea of blue. Kate could see the tears in Evelyn Montgomery's eyes as she received the traditionally folded flag with which Roy's casket had been covered. She remembered taking the podium, and speaking the words she had worked so hard to write, to the solemn gathering of mourners.

 _Roy Montgomery taught me what it meant to be a cop. He taught me that we are bound by our choices, but we are more than our mistakes. Captain Montgomery once said to me that, for us there is no victory. There are only battles. And in the end, the best you could hope for is to find a place to make your stand. And if you're very lucky, you find someone willing to stand with you. Our captain would want us to carry on the fight. And even if there is..._

Kate heard Castle shout her name, heard the shot ring out and felt the weight of Castle's body knocking her to the grass. There was the burn in her chest, and then the shock that paralyzed her. She could barely see Castle bending over her, but she could hear the trembling of his whispered voice and feel his tears falling on her face.

 _Oh, Kate. Shh. Kate, please. Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me, please. Stay with me, okay? Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate._

Then there was blackness, pierced only by a siren's scream.

"Kate," Toner called. "It's all right. It's over now. The shooter is gone. You're safe."

Kate's eyes flew open. "Castle!"

Toner touched her hand. "He's here. He's right outside."

* * *

Kate didn't know what she had expected to feel. She wasn't sure what she did feel, or even if she felt anything at all. Castle sat next to her holding her hand, in the cab back to the loft, but she was detached. New York buzzed around them, but couldn't penetrate her consciousness.

After Castle paid off the taxi, he led her through the lobby of his building to the elevator. She stared straight ahead until she reached the door of the loft. She heard the click of his key in the lock and felt his hand at the small of her back as she stepped inside. He guided her to a place on the couch, perched on the cushions himself, and turned toward her, studying her face. "How do you feel?"

"Castle, I don't know. I was there again, at Roy's funeral, but I wasn't, you know? It was like I was inhabiting someone else's body. And now, it's all faded out, like when you wake up from a nightmare and you remember you had one, but the details slip away."

"That's good, isn't it?" Castle questioned. "Isn't that the purpose of the treatment? To help you let the nightmare go?"

Kate's teeth dug into her lower lip as she nodded. "It is. But it wasn't all a nightmare. And the part of it that wasn't, I want to hang onto."

Castle pressed her hand to his lips and laid a kiss in her palm. "There's a part of it that I never want to forget, either."

Kate rose and offered her hand to him. Wordlessly, she led him toward the bedroom and pulled open the top button of her blouse.

Castle could see part of a slowly fading scar, not quite covered by the black lace that edged her bra. He slowly undid the rest of her buttons and gradually lowered her to the bed, supporting himself on his arms above her. Their lips met tentatively at first, as if Kate were still enveloped in her dream state. The kiss deepened as their tongues met, danced, and met again. Kate's body strained upward to meet him, her hands reaching to strip away the fabric barriers between them. Clothing fell away, as if of its own volition. They were moving in rhythm with each other in a private reality, a world that only they shared, as they melded into one.

* * *

Castle had propped himself against the tufted backboard of the bed, drowsing at the edge of sleep, his eyes still half closed, with a sheet drawn partially up his chest A grinding noise from the kitchen jolted him back to wakefulness. Mother was running the food processor. No doubt trying to replicate another of Burton Hemsley's culinary masterpieces. He could hear Alexis' voice joining the din. He looked over at Kate who was dragging herself up on one elbow. "Castle, what the…?"

"Ah, my beloved family has returned to the nest. We could pretend we don't hear them," he suggested hopefully.

"No Castle, after all your annoying behavior when we first started working together, one of the first things that began to redeem you in my eyes, was your relationship with Alexis and Martha. That's the last thing I want to interfere with. We should get dressed." She gazed down at a couple of buttons on the floor. "You're going to need a new shirt."

Castle grinned at her. "I think I will secret the one I was wearing away, and treasure it forever."


	29. Chapter 29

The Push

Chapter 29

The grooves bracketing Kate's nose deepened as she ended her call with the Health Management Division. "What's wrong?" Castle asked.

"They won't accept Dr. Toner's assessment that my P.T.S.D. symptoms have been reduced to a manageable level. They say I have to go back to get cleared by Dr. Burke. Damn it, Castle! I need to go back to work! There's a bad guy out there shooting people, and Ryan, Espo, and Gate's whole fricking task force are getting nowhere!"

"Kate," Castle wondered. "When Burke clears you, and he will, are you sure this is the case you want to go back for? The sniper shot his first victim in the heart. Are you sure that coping with that won't cause a setback in the progress you've made? I've acceded to your wishes about not talking to Wheldon about ordering Gates to take me back. I won't be able to go to the precinct with you. Apparently, my takedown of Wood was not enough to convince Gates of my worthiness to partner with you and the boys."

"Castle, I have to do my part to get that madman off the streets. If I can't do that, what good am I?"

"So, are you going back to see Burke?"

Kate sighed and closed her eyes. "I have no choice."

Kate pulled her feet up under her and toyed with the miniature wood mannequin on the table beside her, as she sat opposite Dr. Burke. "I've been going over Dr. Toner's account of your therapy with him, Detective Beckett," Burke told her. It is very interesting and somewhat encouraging."

"Good, then sign the piece of paper and let me go back to work," Kate responded.

"Kate, you know it's not that easy. Obviously, I can't subject you to any more unexpected crashes. You'll be prepared for them. What I would like you to do, is tell me about your mother's death."

Kate crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Why my mother's death?"

"Because your shooting is not the only deep trauma you've experienced, and I'd like to see if there has been a change in how you regard a previous, and possibly a more significant trauma, since last we spoke."

"Fine. My mother, father, and I were supposed to be going to dinner. My father and I went to the restaurant together. My mother was supposed to meet us there. When she never showed up, Dad figured she must have gotten caught up in a case. That happened a lot. We went back to our apartment, and a Detective Raglan was waiting for us. He told us my mother had been killed. He said it was a random killing. Months ago I found out that he had been involved in her death. He was was shot when he tried to tell me the truth. I took down his shooter. Castle did, really. Then the bastard escaped from prison and Roy Montgomery died killing him. "

"Let's return to your mother's shooting," Burke directed. "When Detective Raglan told you your mother was dead, how did you feel?"

Kate grasped the arms of her chair. "At first, I thought it all had to be some big mistake, you know? That maybe someone who looked like her had died. But then Raglan told me what she was wearing. I'd seen her before she left that morning. I knew it was her. Then I just felt numb."

"And after that?"

"I saw what it was doing to my father. I watched him drain half a bottle of whiskey at one sitting because he couldn't cope with her death. I felt alone - and angry. I just wanted to get the bastard responsible."

"So, your father reacted to the loss by turning to alcohol. What did you do?" Burke queried.

Kate resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'd think that would be obvious. I became a cop. I wanted to catch my mother's killer, and every other killer I could."

"You wanted vengeance?" Burke prompted.

"I wanted justice," Kate insisted.

"And you finally got it. Your mother's killer has been found. What do you want now, Kate?"

"I want justice for everyone else who has lost a loved one to a murderer. That's why I want to get back to work."

"Alright, Kate. I will sign the piece of paper, as you put it, with one proviso. I want to see you, at least once a month, to make sure your symptoms are under control. I will be putting that in my report to Health Management Services, and your captain will be aware of it as well. Can you accept that condition?"

"I'll have to, won't I?" Kate replied.

* * *

Kate was embarrassed but gratified at the applause that greeted her return to the Twelfth Precinct. She met the appraising stare that came at her from over Victoria (Iron) Gate's reading glasses. "Detective Kate Beckett, your reputation, of course, precedes you," Gate's told her. "I received the notice that you passed your psych evaluation, with the accompanying caveat. Your badge has been waiting for you." Gates handed Kate her shield.

"I need my gun, sir," Kate replied, with what Ryan had warned her was Gates' preferred form of address.

"Then I'll need to see your re-qualification. "You've been gone for more than three months, Detective. That's more than long enough for anyone to get rusty, especially with an injury that limits your range of motion and your ability to absorb the force of a recoil. In any case, regulations demand that you re-qualify. With your previous ratings, I'm sure that you are more than familiar with the shooting range,"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine. Come back to me as soon as you have your paperwork and Detective…."

"Yes, sir?"

"Do not even think about bringing that pulp novelist shadow of yours into my precinct. My command has no place for rich dilettantes who want to play cop."

"Sir," Kate protested. "Castle has been my partner for three years. Our clearance rate rose when he began working with us. He has been instrumental in solving many of our cases."

"Cases are cleared by solid police work, not by flights of fancy," Detective. "When you come back, you come alone. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Kate agreed.

* * *

"So, you handed Gates a target with all ten shots in the center ring. Good for you!" Castle declared.

Kate drummed her fingers on the counter as she sat on a kitchen stool in the loft. "But she's absolutely insisting that you're persona non-grata, Castle. I'm rethinking not having you ask Wheldon to intervene."

"We'll find a way to work something out, Kate," Castle assured her. "In the meantime, just tell me everything you have so far on the case."

Kate used her fingertip to trace a pattern in the condensation on the surface of a bottle of cold water in front of her. "There is not much to tell, Castle. The bullet came from an unregistered weapon that wouldn't have been hard to get. When a casing was traced, it turned out to be a reload. The gun is a dead-end. There was some trace DNA, which gave us a rough physical description that could fit a few million men. We've been narrowing it down to people who would have the skill to make the shot. Espo's taken point on that, because of his experience in the military."

"Anything else?" Castle asked.

"Just weird paper dolls he's been leaving at the scene. They don't seem to mean anything. Maybe he's got a fetish or something."

"I've written about more than a few killer's fetishes. They usually have some kind of a backstory. Can you get me pictures of the dolls?" Castle proposed. "That mystery would at least be something I could work on without butting up against the iron gate blocking the precinct door."

"I don't know what you'll find, Castle, but at this point, it can't hurt for you to try."


	30. Chapter 30

The Push

Chapter 30

"Dad, Beckett's fine. She's working again. Why is she still here?" Alexis demanded, standing in front of her father's desk.

Castle looked up at his daughter's unattractively petulant face. "She's here because I want her to be, Alexis. And last time I checked it's my name on the deed to this place. I love her, and I want her with me. As the smart one in the family, I'm sure you can understand that."

"Does she love you back?" Alexis asked. "Dad, has she ever said she loves you back?"

Castle sat silently.

"Yeah, I thought so." Alexis turned and strode out of the room.

Castle gazed unseeing at the screen of his laptop. He'd been keeping himself busy while he waited for Kate to send him pictures of the paper dolls. Putting his fantasy on the page had been easy. Rook had recovered from the wound he sustained taking a bullet meant for Nikki, and they were working together again - more or less. He hadn't bothered with the pesky details of how Rook had recovered. No PTSD therapy there. Castle's escape into fantasy couldn't keep his mind from the question Alexis had posed. Did Kate love him? Sleeping with him was no proof. Kate had slept with Sorenson and Demming and Josh, and she hadn't loved any of them. He'd slept with women he didn't love too, including his wives. It was obvious that Kate both wanted and needed him. He shook his head, reminded of the words of an old Meat Loaf song. "I want you. I need you, but there ain't no way I'm ever gonna love you. But don't be sad, cause two outa three ain't bad." He'd always desperately wanted to correct the man's grammar. But now he pondered the sentiment. Did Kate love him? And if she didn't, could two out of three be enough? His thoughts were interrupted by the alert that an email from Kate had arrived.

Castle studied the pictures in the attachment. The colors were vivid, like paintings he'd vaguely remembered seeing - somewhere. It had been on a museum trip with Alexis. Normally the two of them favored The Museum of Natural History over the Met, but Alexis had been taking art history and had wanted to do a project for extra credit. Castle had bought the appropriate level of membership to give her the access she needed. He could use the perks of his patron status now. He quickly made the earliest appointment he could get with a curator.

* * *

Neila Raiden carefully examined the pictures Castle had brought. "Identifying these paintings will help catch the man who is shooting people down in the city?"

"That's the hope," Castle confirmed.

"I do recognize the style," Neila said, her thick Bronx accent incongruous in the hallowed halls of culture. "These paintings are no longer on display here. They were part of a traveling exhibit. But they sell a coffee table book with reproductions in it, in the gift shop. Your killer may have cut these from that. He could have bought or even stolen one from any of the Met stores. The staffing level isn't what it should be. I doubt that theft or the desecration of an art book would prick the conscience of a serial killer much."

"Probably not," Castle agreed. "You have been incredibly helpful. I'll purchase one of those books right now."

"Just catch the bastard, Mr. Castle," Neila bid him.

"That's the plan," Castle replied.

* * *

Victoria Gates compared the dolls to the paintings marked in the book that Castle had given Kate at a hurried meeting at a coffee shop near the precinct. "I don't know how you figured it out, but they are a match, Detective," she agreed.

"I didn't figure it, sir," Kate confessed. "It was Castle."

Gate's eyes flashed. "You gave him evidence in an ongoing investigation?'

"He's had evidence in ongoing investigations for years, and he's never used it irresponsibly," Kate said. "But he figured out more than where paintings these came from. The titles of the paintings each doll has been cut from have been predictive of the next place the killer will strike. Sir, I know you would rather have all the work on this case be done by cops, but Castle has accomplished what we couldn't, and it's not the first time. We need all the help we can get. If you allow me to bring Castle in, it may save the life of the next victim. You can't ignore that possibility."

Gates pulled off her glasses and sighed. "No, I can't, Detective. Fine, you can use Mr. Castle as a consultant on the case, but he is your responsibility. If he impairs the investigation in any way, it's on your head."

"Yes, sir."

Ryan cautiously stuck his head in the door of Gate's office. "Unis think they've found the shooters last nest."

Kate looked questioningly at Gates. "Captain, I'd like to call Castle and have him meet me there."

Gate's pointed at the door with her glasses. "Yes, go. And take the book, Detective. Mr. Castle might need it."

Ryan shook his head as he and Kate met up with Esposito near the elevator. "I never would have thought that was possible, Beckett. Gates agreeing to take help from Castle."

"She's desperate. The whole city is desperate," Kate replied. "Let's just go, guys. I'll call Castle on the way."

* * *

There wasn't much to see in the small office from which the sniper had taken his last shot. A wooden saw horse bore the marks of a clamp that had been used to steady a rifle. Painters had left behind plastic sheeting. The littered floor, where carpeting had been pulled up, was badly in need of a good sweeping. Castle, Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito searched every inch for paper dolls.

Castle spotted a telltale trail of colorful scraps and followed it to beneath a pile of plastic in a corner. "Found it. Oh no!"

Kate spun to face him. "What, Castle?"

Castle's eyes were wide, and his breath came in rapid gasps. He held up a line of paper dolls for Kate to see. "Kate, he's planning a massacre!"

Kate burned rubber back to the precinct while Castle searched through the images in his book. "Kate, the painting the dolls are from is called Lions in The Meadow. Lions? The Zoo? Central Park? Bronx?. Either way, he could take out children."

"Or it could be a meadow, Castle. There's a meadow in Central Park."

"But there's also Flushing Meadows Park in Queens," Castle pointed out. "Maybe it's both, lions and a meadow. Not literal lions. People referred to as lions."

"Like a sports team," Kate suggested.

"Yes! We need to locate any group called the lions that might be headed for either meadow, or another one we haven't thought of. And it has to be information available to the public. Newspaper sites maybe, or something said on a radio or television broadcast."

Kate pulled up at the precinct, with Ryan and Esposito not far behind her. "We need anyone who can use a search engine looking for news stories, key words lions, and meadow," she instructed. That's our killer's next target."

"Got it," Ryan acknowledged.

"And Esposito, you need to find out where a shooter would have a vantage point, near any New York City meadow."

"On it!"

"Oh God!" Castle exclaimed as he and Kate ran toward the precinct building. "I hope we can figure this out in time."

Kate pulled open the door. "We have to, Castle."


	31. Chapter 31

The Push

Chapter 31

"Beckett, I've got a list of events for the next couple of days," Ryan called across the bullpen.

"Put it up the board, concentrating on today," Kate ordered. "This guy has been accelerating."

"Right," Ryan acknowledged.

"What have you got, Espo?" Kate queried.

"The only place our shooter could get a decent trajectory in Flushing Meadows is from the New York City Building, Beckett," Esposito reported.

"Is there a Lions related event near there, Ryan?" Kate queried.

"Not for a couple of days," Ryan replied. "The rest are in Strawberry Fields in Central Park."

"With the kind of rifle the shooter was using, he could hit something in Strawberry Fields from any high building on Central Park West from 67th to 76th street," Esposito calculated. "A lot of those buildings are secure, with rich tenants, like The Dakota. I'm thinking he'd go for buildings which house a lot of different business tenants where different faces would go unnoticed."

Castle rapidly scanned Ryan's postings. "Look, Beckett! There's a High School Team called the Lions holding a celebration of a winning season at the north end of Strawberry Fields. And it's in a couple of hours! "

"Best trajectory to hit the students there would come from the Wadsworth Building. That place has got forty stories and a load of office space. If our shooter is going to try to take out those kids, he'd do it from there," Esposito asserted.

"Let's get our people checking out those offices," Kate ordered. "And we'll need to check the surrounding buildings too. Ryan, get on the phone and see if you can stop those kids from entering the park."

Gates came out of her office as Kate was speaking.

"The mayor, the commissioner, and every member of the City Council, are frantic. What have you got, Detective?"

"We think we know where the next shooting is going to be, Sir," Kate replied. "If we don't stop it, there will be a bunch of dead kids within the next couple of hours.

"Alright, I'm authorizing the use of every possible resource," Gates responded. "This is all hands on deck, people. Let's stop this maniac, now!"

* * *

Even utilizing every cop available, luck would be needed to find the shooter. Esposito led a team to check out the roof and 40th floor of the Wadsworth Building. Kate and Castle ran from office to office, one floor down. With Castle steps behind her, when Kate opened the door of 3947, the barrel of an M9 military sidearm was pointed at her chest. She recognized the figure holding the gun as one of the possible shooters Esposito's team had identified, cross-referencing men with enough training to hit long range targets, with physical characteristics provided by a DNA sample. Lee Travis, an honorably discharged former Marine officer, had disappeared into the streets of New York after losing a leg to a hit and run driver. He had emerged in front of her. She could see the pain in his face as he struggled with whatever demons had driven him to murderous madness. "Just back off," Travis pleaded. "I'm not here to shoot a cop. Just the undeserving victors out there; the ones who celebrate their wins while I have nothing."

Kate concentrated on recalling every technique Dr. Toner had helped her learn to quell the beating of a heart that threatened to explode from her chest. She struggled to breathe deeply, to think clearly. She recognized the look in Travis's eyes. She had seen it in her own. "Travis, I know you're in pain. I understand it." She opened her blouse, allowing Travis to see the scar it hid. "A bullet almost took my life, my career, everything. But there's a path back, Travis. I found it. I can help you find it too."

Travis shook his head as rage rose in his face. "No! You're a liar! You're not like me at all. You can't understand. You lost nothing. I lost everything. I can't let you stop me. I have a job to do."

As Travis's finger tightened on the trigger, Castle pushed Kate aside. Kate pulled her own weapon, shooting Travis between the eyes, even as Travis's shot echoed through the hallway. Castle slumped to the floor. Kate grabbed her walkie-talkie. "I need a medic up here, now!" She knelt next to Castle, trying to use her hands to staunch the flow of blood. "Stay with me Rick. Help is coming. Just stay with me, please. I can't lose you now. I love you, Rick, I love you."

* * *

Siren screaming, an ambulance careened through New York streets. Kate clung to Castle's hand, praying that his weak pulse would continue to beat beneath her fingers. The paramedics had revived him once at the scene before starting the short journey to New York Presbyterian Hospital. The few moments it took to make it from Central Park West, seemed like hours to Kate. She never let go until two nurses held her back, as the gurney bearing Castle was rushed toward the door of an emergency surgery suite."

Ryan and Esposito arrived a few moments later. "Beckett, I called Lanie," Esposito told her. "She's coming to be with you. And she can talk doctor."

Kate covered her face with a hand not yet washed clean of Rick's blood. "Oh, God. I have to call Martha and Alexis." Kate collapsed into a chair.

"I can do it, Beckett," Ryan offered.

Kate bit her lip and shook her head. "No. I have to. This is on me. This is all on me."

* * *

Martha's heels pounded against the hard floor as she and Alexis ran toward Kate. "Katherine, what the hell happened? What was Richard doing in front of a gun?"

Kate pushed strands of hair, stained red from the earlier passage of her bloodied hand, from her face. "Martha, he wasn't in front of a gun. I was. He could have stayed back, but he pushed me out of the way and took the bullet meant for me. I couldn't stop him. I don't know why he did that."

"Of course, you do!" Alexis accused. "It's just like what Rook did at the end of Dad's last book. Dad wrote that because he wanted to save you. Because he loves you. And he may not be as lucky as Rook. He may die for it. You're poison, Detective Beckett. Dad's done nothing but get hurt since he met you!"

"Just wait, Alexis," Martha intervened. "This is not Katherine's fault. The only one responsible for shooting your father is the man who shot him. What happened to him, Katherine?"

"I killed him," Kate answered, dully.

"Good for you," Martha responded.

As the clock ticked with agonizing slowness, Lanie arrived and went to find someone she could talk to, before sitting with Kate. "I didn't find out much. He's in surgery, but the doctor will come find us the minute he's out." Lanie turned to Martha. "He'll be talking to you, not Kate, because you're Castle's next of kin."

Martha shivered. "Dr. Parish, please don't put it that way. It sounds ominous, But thank you for being here."

Lanie put her arm around Kate. "Couldn't be anywhere else. You know Kate, Perlmutter's taking over for me in the lab. He was actually civil about it. I'd call that a miracle."

"Let's hope it's a day for them," Martha said.

A/N The Wadsworth Building and the emergency surgical suite at the hospital, I made up. Everything else in New York City is real.


	32. Chapter 32

The Push

Chapter 32

Kate cradled Castle's cheek as she watched his eyelids struggle to lift. The windy velvet of his voice had a raspy edge. "Kate, tell me again."

Kate ran the tip of her finger over his dry lips "Tell you what, Castle?"

"What you told me after I was shot. Tell me again, now that you know that I can hear you."

"You mean that I love you?" Kate asked.

"Yeah, that."

"I love you, Rick."

"I love you too." Castle replied.

"I know," Kate said. "But Castle, you're a bad influence on me. I'm stealing lines from Han Solo."

"Just shows you have good taste, in men and movies. Back at the Wadsworth, I thought I heard your gun go off. Are the kids all right? Did you get the sniper?"

"The kids are fine, and from what Lanie told me, the sniper is on Perlmutter's slab. She said Perlmutter was humming the flight of the Valkyries as he filled out his autopsy report."

"I wonder what he would have been humming if I was on his slab, Probably Bye Bye Bye from 'N Sync, complete with the dance moves."

Kate put a hand on Castle's shoulder. "Babe you shouldn't even be thinking about being on a slab. And anyway, I doubt Perlmutter would know who "N Sync was. I think he's stuck in the 19th century. Alexis might not even remember that group."

"Where is Alexis?" Castle asked. "I know I heard her and Mother, but I was stuck just below the level of consciousness somewhere and couldn't quite make it up to the surface."

"Uh huh, it seemed like you came around a couple of times, but you weren't really with us. The doctors said that was to be expected. Alexis and Martha are in the cafeteria. Alexis is keeping her distance from me. She blames me for getting you shot. She has a point."

"No, she doesn't," Castle insisted. "You didn't ask me to step in front of a bullet. In fact, you've consistently told me to stay away from flying lead."

Kate shook her head. "Good luck telling her that."

"I'm going to," Castle vowed. "How are you? It couldn't have been easy to kill that man."

Kate shrugged. "Castle I haven't even thought about it. When he shot you, I just reacted. And contrary to her usual form, Gates hasn't insisted that I immediately do all the paperwork. No doubt Burke will interrogate me about it at my next appointment."

"And he should, Kate. I don't want this to be a setback for you."

Kate smiled and rolled her eyes. "Castle, you are amazing."

* * *

"How's Mr. Castle doing, Detective?" Gates asked, as Kate handed her a report.

"He's coming home from the hospital tomorrow," Kate replied. "The doctors think he should make a full recovery. He'll just need to go through the process."

"You know all about that, don't you Detective?" Gates assumed.

"Yes, Sir, I do. It won't be easy, but he's determined to do it."

"That sniper might still be out there, if it wasn't for Mr. Castle, and I might have lost a good detective," Gate's said, slipping her glasses on her nose to read Kate's report. "Tell him that when he's ready, he's welcome back here."

Kate's eyes widened. "Yes Sir, I will. Thank you, Sir."

"Don't thank me, Detective, we need to keep our case closure rate up. We're competing with the 54th.

Kate nodded as she backed toward the door. "Yes, Sir."

Castle would have loved to lean on Kate as he slowly crossed the threshold of the loft, but he was determined to stand on his own two feet, especially on front of Alexis. He wasn't in the mood for either recriminations or icy silences. He just wanted to make it to his own bed, and if Kate would curl up next to him, that would be a definite plus. "It's good to be home."

Alexis started to open her mouth but was squelched by a look from Martha, who hurried forward. "Darling, let's just get you settled. I paid a visit to the Soup Nazi. He scowled at me, but I got the last of the chicken noodle. I have a new herb tea too, it's supposed to have great healing properties."

Castle winced inwardly as he remembered a health drink Martha had previously tried to get him to drink. "Maybe later, Mother. I think I'm just going to rest for a while."

"Of course, Darling, whatever you need to do."

Castle sank down heavily to sit on the side of his bed. Kate pointed at his pajama drawer. "Darth Vader or Harry Potter?"

Castle shook his head and touched the bed beside him. "Neither. Just sit with me for a minute, okay?"

Kate slid gently beside him. "Are you okay, Babe?"

"No, but I will be," Castle answered. "My bed in the hospital was missing the element most vital to my recovery, you."

"Castle, I've been staying at my old place while you were in the hospital. I moved a lot of my clothes back there too. It was just easier that way."

"Because of Alexis," Castle assumed.

Kate nodded.

"Yeah, well now the king of the loft is back, and he wants you here, so if you're willing to stay, a little red-headed princess is just going to have to mind her manners."

"Of course, I'm willing, Babe."

"Good!" Castle responded. "Then Doctor Who."

Kate stared at him in confusion. "What?".

"No, Who. I want my Doctor Who pajamas. I could use some regeneration right now."

Kate laughed. "I should have known. I just wish we had a Tardis. There are some things I wish I could go back and change."

"You'll be here with me," Castle told her. "I don't need to change a thing."

* * *

Castle was surprised to hear the applause when he strode, if a little cautiously, out of the elevator at the Twelfth Precinct. He was even more surprised that even though she didn't participate, Captain Gates let the applause go on. After saying a round of thanks, Castle settled gratefully into the beaten-up chair next to Kate's desk.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Rick?" she asked.

"Better here than going stir crazy in the loft. "I'll let Espo take on the foot chases, but my crime solving mind could definitely use some stretching."

Ryan put down the receiver of the phone on his desk and held up a sticky note. "Got a fresh one, dead woman at the Met."

"Ooh, Murder in a museum. Sounds like the title of a Margaret Truman novel, except for being in the wrong city," Castle told Kate. "We're off to a new adventure. Please tell me that they've repaired that spring in the passenger seat of your unit."

"Castle, on the N.Y.P.D. budget, you've got to be kidding. You want to take a cab and meet me there?"

"No, I'll manage. I'll just sit on my coat or something to protect my pride, but I think I need to show up at the N.Y.P.D. Support Services Bureau with a couple of boxes of cronuts, and see if I can convince them to fix that travesty. Or maybe I'll just donate some money for a new vehicle, like the ones the FBI has with all the cool stuff in them. Or better yet, something really top grade, like a luxury model seized from a drug lord. I wonder what happened to Vulcan Simmons' cars. In my books, I call Ryan and Esposito's car the Roach Mobile, but still they have a better one than you do. That's not right. The senior detective should have the best."

Kate touched his arm. "Babe, I do."


	33. Chapter 33

The Push

Chapter 33

Castle surveyed the body tied to a Greek column in front of the imposing art museum. "I know her. That's Neila Raiden, the curator who helped me figure out the where Lee Travis cut his paper dolls from. It's…," Castle consulted his watch, "eleven o'clock in the morning. How could no one have noticed the body before this?"

"Some cracks in the stairs were repaired late yesterday, and the stairs were taped off until the Museum opened at ten," Ryan explained. "If someone looked up from a distance, it would have looked like she was just standing there."

"What was the TOD?" Kate asked Lanie, who had stuck a probe into Neila's liver.

Lanie frowned at the reading. "Ambient temperature. Once the body reached it, it wouldn't have fallen any further. I can't estimate a time from this. She's in rigor, which means she was dead for at least two hours, but my best estimate would be she's been dead for about twelve. I may be able to narrow it down better when I get her to the lab."

"The museum closes at nine," Castle mused. It would have to have been after that, or someone would have seen the body being lashed to a pillar."

"We'll have CSU go over the steps to see if they can find anything," Kate said, "but the killer probably came from inside the museum." She turned to Ryan and Esposito. "Get a list of anyone who was here after hours."

"On it," Esposito replied.

"Why would anyone want to kill a museum curator?" Castle wondered. "And why tie her to a…," He looked up appraisingly, "Corinthian column?"

"We'll find out, Castle," Kate assured him.

* * *

Castle was roused from a much-needed nap by voices from the kitchen. "Alexis, when your father wakes up, just ask him to look into it. Or better still, talk to Katherine," Martha counseled. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding, and everything can be straightened out."

"Some misunderstanding!" Alexis retorted. "My boyfriend gets brought in for questioning in a murder case? It's Detective Beckett's fault. She wants to get back at me, so she's doing it through Ashley."

Martha waved dismissively. "Now that's just nonsense."

"What's nonsense?" Castle asked, coming toward the arguing redheads, rubbing his eyes.

Alexis turned toward her father. "Your girlfriend had the cops pick up my boyfriend."

Castle held up a hand. "Whoa! The police picked up Ashley? For what? Other than smearing your lip gloss, he is boringly well behaved."

"Dad, they picked him up for questioning in the murder of Neila Raiden."

Castle stared incredulously at his daughter. "I can't imagine…. But hey, don't worry. Kate questions people all the time just to get enough details to establish a timeline and piece a scenario together. I'm sure it's nothing, but I'll go back to the precinct and find out what's going on."

* * *

Kate sighed and chewed her lip. "It was no mistake, Castle. Ashley was at the museum after closing last night. He was there by special permission. Apparently, his parents advise a couple of the museum's board members on investments. He was working on a project for Stanford about the economics of art acquisition. I don't know the details, but it involved going through museum records, old ones that hadn't been computerized."

"What did he have to do with Neila Raiden?" Castle queried.

From what we've been able to gather so far, they had a discussion, a loud discussion - on her part, anyway."

Castle recalled the Bronxian tones that would have been more in place shouting from the stands in Yankee Stadium than in the hushed galleries of a museum. "Her voice did carry. What were they arguing about?"

"From what we've been told so far, Neila was a purist," Kate relayed. "She didn't think economics should enter into the evaluation of art. She thought it should be appreciated solely on its historical and aesthetic value. She didn't like the thrust of Ashley's research. She was afraid that whatever conclusions he drew might get back to the board and interfere with acquisitions she was trying to make."

"That would be more of a motive for Neila to kill Ashley, not the other way around," Castle pointed out. "Why are you looking at him?"

"Because Neila had threatened to try to get his research shut down. That would have impacted his grade point and his ability to get into a good graduate school. People have committed murder over a lot less."

Castle snorted. "Not Ashley. That boy is so soft-hearted that he maintains a special diet for a white rat, and he's always treated Alexis and me with respect. Too much respect where I'm concerned, something to do with an antique pistol I accidentally pointed at him the first time we met. But still, Kate, I don't see how he could look good for Neila's murder."

"Castle, he wasn't arrested, just questioned. You know we look at every possibility. If Ashley had nothing to do with the murder, he has nothing to worry about."

"Kate, you know I love you, but that's just not true. I've seen you go after the wrong suspect before. Hell, you did it on our first case together. You had that poor guy with PDD pegged as a serial killer, and you had me arrested for working on proving you wrong."

"Castle, that was before I started hanging around with you," Kate admitted. "You have made me look at things in a way I never did before. You've made me a better cop. And I promise you; we will look at every possible suspect and every conceivable lead. If Ashley didn't kill Neila Raiden, we will nail whoever did."

Castle drew her to him and kissed her hair. "That's all I wanted to hear."

* * *

Creflo Botts was poring over his Bible. He was always poring over his Bible. The pages were dog-eared, and there were highlighted and underlined passages everywhere. One passage, Leviticus 19: 28, was both highlighted and underlined. "You are not to make incisions in your flesh on account of the dead nor submit to cuts or tattoos. I am the LORD."

"I was right. I was just. I was doing God's work," Creflo murmured to himself over and over. It was not enough. He would have to pass on the word to anyone who would listen. And If they didn't listen, Romans 6:23 clearly said, "For the wages of sin is death." He was God's paymaster. He had doled out those wages, but he truly hoped that God would not command him to do it again.

He needed a different spot to do his street witnessing. There were so many sinners. They swarmed the sidewalks of New York like ants streaming from a hill. He would have to go where he could reach as many of them as possible. He knew just the place. A new movie would be opening that day at the Nitehawk Cinema. The sinners there even indulged in drink while they drove themselves Hellward. The film, Tattoo Nation, was new, but the sin was as old as the Bible. He picked up his precious book and headed for the door of his tiny basement apartment. He would bring the lost ones the word. He would preach it loud and clear before the final hour arrived and it would be too late."


	34. Chapter 34

The Push

Chapter 34

"Kate," Castle asked, "have you searched Neila Raiden's office?"

"CSU say's it's not the where the murder took place, Castle. They've been trying to figure out where it did, but the museum is huge."

"I know," Castle agreed, "more than two million square feet, one of the fun facts proudly cited to patrons."

"We asked the museum to close down until we figure out just where the primary crime scene was. I imagine patrons won't be too happy about that."

"Not as unhappy as the trustees. What progress have you made so far?"

"Not much," Kate admitted. "Neila was strangled, so there was no convenient blood drop trail. There was DNA on the body. We took a swab from Ashley, but if that's negative for a match, it won't prove anything one way or another. It won't even prove anything if it's positive since we know he and Neila were in contact. The DNA from the body didn't match anything in the data base, but CSU will be looking for it anywhere that has any signs of some kind of struggle taking place."

"I'd like to look around Neila's office," Castle said. "There might be some clue to the killer's motive."

"Like what, Castle?"

Castle shrugged. "I'm hoping something will have changed since the last time I was there, but I won't know what the clue is until I see it."

"Alright Castle, that strange mind of yours might think of something we didn't," Kate conceded. "We can go now."

* * *

Castle gazed around Neila Raiden's private domain. It was mostly as he'd remembered it: bookshelves stuffed full, and photographs of art and curiosities covering the surface of a credenza. One group of pictures caught his eye. "These are canopic jars," he told Kate. "When a body was mummified, they were meant to house four organs that would be needed in the afterlife, the stomach, the intestines, the lungs, and the liver. The heart had to stay in the body because it was believed to be the seat of the soul. I remember getting a bulletin from the museum about a traveling Egyptian exhibit due to open soon. These are supposed to be part of it. They might even be somewhere in the museum by now."

"Why is that significant, Castle?" Kate queried.

Castle shook his head. "I'm not sure. There's just something niggling at the back of my brain."

"Maybe it will come to you when you sleep on it tonight," Kate suggested. "You have been known to have mummy dreams."

"That's true," Castle agreed. "They're better than the zombie dreams. Mummies only shed cloth. Zombies shed decaying flesh." Kate's stomach rumbled. "Kate, the idea of decaying flesh makes you hungry? Do I need to check you for zombie bites?"

Kate laughed. "Maybe later, Castle, but I am starving. I was questioning people, including Ashley, all day. I didn't even get near the break room. Espo brought me some coffee from your machine, but it was…." Kate stuck out her tongue and screwed up her face.

"He never has gotten the hang of that thing," Castle observed. "As it turns out, there was a delivery to the loft from the butcher today. Alexis ordered a load of meat including some terrific rib eyes. She said I have to keep my iron levels up, but I think she was in the mood to tear into red meat herself."

"Better than having her want to tear into me," Kate said. "Sounds good, Castle."

* * *

Castle stuck his head in the doorway of the loft before leading Beckett in. Martha was behind the counter pouring a glass of red wine. "Where's Alexis?" Castle asked.

"She has gone to comfort Ashley," Martha replied.

Castle's eyebrows descended as the creases in his face deepened. "Comfort Ashley how?"

"Relax, Richard. They're going to the movie festival in Tribeca so that he can lose himself in the Avante guard. Your daughter is angry, but she's still sensible, although for the life of me I can't figure out how that happened. I'm going up to my room to prepare for an audition. You two do whatever you were going to do."

"Eat dinner," Castle inserted.

"Yes, well, fine."

As if I needed permission," Castle grumbled after Martha had disappeared up the stairs. "She's still living rent-free in my house. She doesn't even chip in for the wine."

"You're cranky. Now who's hungry, Babe?" Kate questioned. "You want me to put the steaks on?"

"Please, and I think I'll see if Mother left anything in that bottle of Cabernet."

* * *

"You're feeling better," Kate observed as she snuggled against Castle while they watched the 1932 version of The Mummy, starring Boris Karloff.

"I've always liked this movie," Castle said. "CGI is cool, but this movie manages to tell a great story without it. They were big on forbidden love and resurrections back in the thirties. Henry Victor got robbed though. His scene was cut from the movie for time."

"That happens," Kate offered. "It's a sad story. Even though it was supposed to be sacrilegious, Imhotep tried so hard to resurrect his forbidden love, but it never worked out."

Castle drew her closer. "I guess it worked out better for us. We've both been resurrected, and we've managed to find each other."

"I guess we have," Kate realized. The short credits rolled. "Ready to turn in?"

"As long as it isn't in a sarcophagus," Castle quipped.

Images of canopic jars and Corinthian columns swirled through Castle's dreams. His eyes sprang open. "Kate!"

Instantly awake, Kate turned to him. "What's the matter, Babe? Are you all right?"

"I'm great!" Castle exclaimed. "I'm back in full crime solver mode. I figured it out Kate, the connection between the canopic jars and Neila being tied to a Corinthian column. For once I'm thankful for being forced to go to chapel at boarding school."

"Castle, are you sure you're not still dreaming? What are you talking about?"

Castle sprang from the bed. "I know I have a Bible around here somewhere. It's always the source of a good story, although not as good as some of the Apocrypha. Now Judith and Tobit, those were lively tales!" Castle pulled a Bible from a bookshelf in his office. "I think it was Second Corinthians. Uh huh, here it is, Second Corinthians 4:7: 'But we have this treasure in clay jars, so it will be evident that such overwhelming power comes from God and not from us.'"

Kate leaned her head against his shoulder. "Castle, I'm afraid I'm not following."

"Kate. Don't you see? The movie was all about punishing sacrilege. To some people, that's what drives them. I had that happen in one of my books. It didn't do well."

"I remember," Kate said.

"But look," Castle continued, "what if there was some nut case who thought that the exhibit of canopic jars was sacrilegious somehow, or that Neila was going to present it in a sacrilegious way that didn't emphasize the power of God? He loses it, strangles her, and ties her to a Corinthian column to make his point."

"Castle, that's really stretching things, even for you," Kate said.

"And it isn't stretching things to think that Ashley strangled a museum curator to keep his grade point up? Besides, Beckett, formidable Bronx raised woman that she was, I think Neila could have taken Ashley - unless instead of strangling her, he bored her to death with an economic treatise."

"You may have a point, Castle. Tell you what, tomorrow I'll have my people find out where anything for that Egyptian exhibit is stored and we'll have CSU check the area for any signs that it had something to do with Neila's murder."

Castle gently kissed her lips. "That's all I ask."

"Good, then let's go back to bed," Kate said. "And let's hope you don't have any more dreams about mummies."

Castle held out his hand to her. "I have much better things to dream about."


	35. Chapter 35

The Push

Chapter 35

"Castle you were right," Kate greeted him as he arrived at the precinct just in time to bring her a late lunch. "The canopic jars are stored in a closed off section of the museum until the traveling Egyptian exhibit opens. One of the staff members said things had definitely been disturbed in there. CSU went over it. They pulled some fingerprints and some DNA. They're running the DNA, but the prints aren't in the system. I had the unis start a canvass asking about any religious zealot who might have been hanging around the museum. We're re-questioning the staff, too."

So, does this get Ashley off the hook?" Castle questioned.

"It's a start, but he was the only one seen arguing with Neila, so he's still a suspect until we get something more solid. But your theory has put us on a whole new trail."

"Not entirely what Alexis would want to hear, but it's something," Castle allowed. "What can I do to help, besides feeding you?'

Kate grabbed for the bag Castle carried. "We can talk over lunch."

* * *

Kate bit into a thick corned beef sandwich and closed her eyes as the savory spice danced on her tongue. "Klutz's is the best, isn't it, despite the unfortunate name?" Castle offered, dishing out mustardy potato salad.

"They are wonderful," Kate agreed, her mouth still full.

"You were going to tell me what else I can do to solve this case," Castle prompted.

"Right," Kate agreed. "Castle, if we're looking for some kind of hyper-religious freak, where would he go besides the museum?"

"Hmm," Castle considered, picking up a pickle spear. "He's into enforcing the rules, or at least what he perceives as the rules. Leviticus and Deuteronomy are the books for those, at least the Old Testament ones. You've got the dietary restrictions, the dress restrictions, and the verses people use to go after the gay community, but I think that crazy church that shows up at funerals, has a corner on those. Then there's the cutting or marking of the body. Tattoo parlors maybe. Wait, no! Kate, there's that new movie about tattoos, _Tattoo Nation_ , playing at The Nitehawk. I was thinking about seeing that until I read the reviews, and realized it was mostly about bikers and prisoners."

"Not enough tattooed boobs, Castle?" Kate teased.

"Not of the superior gender," Castle replied. "But unless our guy gets the museum newsletter…."

"We're checking on subscribers," Beckett interrupted.

"I guess that makes me a suspect too, or it would have if I hadn't been with you during most of the kill zone, but to continue, unless he gets the newsletter, he must have read a blurb somewhere about the upcoming Egyptian exhibit. There's a chance he might have read about the movie too."

"Feel up to a trip to The Nitehawk?" Kate inquired.

"That depends," Castle replied, "can I have your pickle?"

"It's all yours, Babe."

"I was assigned a new vehicle this morning, Castle," Kate reported, as she and Castle walked into the elevator. "Just what kind of a bribe did you give The Support Services Bureau?"

"A month of Bagelicious deliveries," Castle confessed. "I still want to look into getting you something truly worthy, but they promised me that the seats would at least be comfortable."

* * *

Kate found a parking spot across the street from The Nitehawk and Castle stretched contently in his seat beside her. "Seems like old times, Kate, you and I on a stakeout."

"It is nice, Castle," Kate agreed, smiling saucily. "Didn't you have a doctor's appointment this morning?"

"I did," Castle acknowledged.

"And what did she say?" Kate asked.

"She said I'm healing okay and that I should keep up the physical therapy for a while."

"Anything else?" Kate prodded.

"Like what?" Castle asked, batting his eyelashes.

"Come on, Castle. You know," Kate gritted out.

"Oh, are you talking about sex?" Castle queried.

"Castle!"

"She said I could do anything that didn't make me uncomfortable. So, I guess it's up to you to make sure I'm comfortable. Think you're up to it?"

"I know a few tricks," Kate responded. "I just hope this is a short stakeout."

Moviegoers filed into The Nitehawk without incident. "Maybe he'll show up for the next showing," Castle speculated.

"Guess we'll have to wait," Kate sighed.

* * *

Creflo Botts surveyed the line for the next show at The Nitehawk. He hadn't had much luck saving souls there so far. He had a few bruises from when a biker had not appreciated his attempts to turn him from sin. He was also still sore where the demon possessed servant of Satan at the museum had struck him with her knee. After that, it had taken all his perseverance to continue in his mission to do God's will. But his wounds were far less than those the Savior bore. Compared to that sacrifice, Creflo's burden was light, and he would continue to bear it. He mouthed the words to Leviticus 19:28, preparing himself again to witness to the assemblage of evildoers.

Castle pointed. "Kate look at that guy going up and down the line."

"He doesn't look the part much, Castle. I was expecting long hair and sandals. Maybe a sandwich board."

"Well he might be going by a verse that was in the top ten for our chaplain at boarding school, First Corinthians 11:14: 'Does not the very nature of things teach you that if a man has long hair, it is a disgrace to him?' The school wanted us all closely shorn. It looks like he's wearing the kind of suit and shoes they would have required for worship at boarding school too. Someone took their indoctrination way too seriously. Bet that suit's 100% one kind of fiber. Mixing of types of thread is another biblical no no. Although I admit, God may have had a point about 100% cotton shirts. Definitely more comfortable without the polyester. I think sandwich boards have been replaced by Twitter."

"We should get in line and listen to what he's saying," Kate suggested.

"Alright," Castle agreed. "But if you're going to make me sit through this movie, I'm going to need candy, popcorn, and maybe nachos too."

"I don't think we'll have to go in, Castle. We could even pretend to be convinced and see where it gets us with this guy," Kate proposed.

"Ah, undercover work. I didn't think schmoozing a suspect was the kind you had in mind for tonight."

"It wasn't. But first things first, Castle." Kate ran her hand up his thigh. "Then we'll see what happens later."

When Kate heard "You are not to make incisions in your flesh on account of the dead nor submit to cuts or tattoos. I am the Lord," come out of the street preacher's mouth; she accepted that Castle might be on the right track. Despite the Bible pounder's neat appearance, the look in the man's eyes was spooky. Nevertheless, she smiled, inviting him to continue. Kate and Castle were treated to a recitation of a large portion of the 613 Old Testament statutes and ordinances before the theater doors opened and the queue began to move.

Declaring that he no longer had an interest in watching such a sinful movie, Castle invited their new found counselor to break bread with him and Kate at a nearby restaurant. The man accepted, with the proviso that he couldn't eat anything that was biblically prohibited. Castle agreed, thinking to himself that it was going to be a very long meal.


	36. Chapter 36

The Push

Chapter 36

Castle closed the door of the loft behind him, much harder than was necessary. "Whew! That was something. Three hours of preaching over dinner and I'm not only half drowned from a theological flood; I'm still hungry. He had to choose that vegan restaurant. I understand that veggies aren't biblically unclean and in a serious vegan place, unlikely to come into contact with anything that is, but somehow Klutz's managed to obey all the rules too and provided us with a delicious and filling lunch. At least now we have our suspect's name and some of his personal history. Who would name a child Creflo?" Castle shook his head. "I don't know about his parents. Maybe a strain of something weird runs in his family. When he said he heard God calling to him in his twenties, do you think he meant an actual voice? That's the age when schizophrenia often manifests itself. I've written about a character like that. Creflo talked a lot about what God has instructed him to do. Maybe in his mind, God did it directly."

"I don't know, Castle; I'll leave that up to the shrinks to figure out. And I actually liked the eggplant," Kate said. "My Aunt Theresa has gone vegan. She cooks some pretty impressive stuff these days."

"Thanks for the warning," Castle replied.

"There should be enough DNA on that napkin that you filched after Creflo wiped his mouth on it. I'm glad we stopped to drop it off for the lab to check against what was at the crime scene. In the morning, I'll put the boys on hunting down everything about Creflo Botts. You want a snack before bed?" Kate asked.

Castle's mouth quirked. "I think I'd rather have one in bed."

"I'm not big on sleeping on crumbs, Castle," Kate teased.

Castle palmed her well-shaped derriere. "I wasn't planning on anything that would leave crumbs."

"Mm. And how would you like your late night meal presented, with a formal setting or laid out casually?"

Castle slipped his hand under her blouse. "I was thinking au naturel."

"That can be arranged," Kate allowed.

* * *

Castle's scar was still angry enough looking to serve as a reminder for Kate to proceed with caution, but Rick didn't seem to be showing any signs of pain. Still, Kate was careful not to put any pressure on his chest, straddling his hips while leaning in carefully for a kiss."

Rick was anything but hesitant, pulling her to him as soon as their lips made contact. Plunging his fingers into her hair, he explored the taste of her, his lips blazing a fiery trail down her body. Kate gasped as he flipped her beneath him and supped on her most intimate secrets. She exploded under him, aching as they joined, grappling and rolling over again. She could hear his rapid breathing as she rode. She stroked his face. "You okay, Babe?"

Just don't stop," he panted.

Kate could feel him move within her as a second more devastating explosion rocked them both. She fell weakly beside him, with just enough strength left to pull up the sheet.

* * *

Castle opened his eyes just after sunrise, the best kind of ache inhabiting his muscles. Kate lay beside him. Her hair bore the obvious signs of the night's exertions. Her makeup was gone. There was no filmy lingerie to enhance her appearance. She'd never looked more beautiful. He kissed her softly. She rubbed an itch on her nose as her eyes opened. "How are you, Babe?"

Castle caressed her cheek. "Can't think of a time when I've been better." The roar of a juicer vibrated the bedroom wall. Castle sighed and shook his head. "At least until this second. I wonder if Mother is on her wheat grass smoothie kick again or Alexis is trying to make a statement."

Castle eased himself out of bed and wrapped himself in a Darth Vader robe. Kate slipped into a purple kimono and they both padded barefoot into the kitchen. Alexis looked up. "Ashley fell in love with carrot-orange juice at Stanford, but his parents don't have as good a juicer as we do. I'm going to bring him some before I go to class."

"Very thoughtful," Castle offered, "but next time you might try making it the night before. That way we could all get more sleep."

Alexis stared hard-eyed back and forth between her father and Kate. "Dad, you're still supposed to be turning in early - to sleep."

"Alexis, that is enough!" Castle retorted, his face reddening. "Kate and I were out working on trying to clear your boyfriend last night. And if you can't show some gratitude, at least show some respect and consideration. You keep telling me you're the adult. Start acting like one. And clean up the carrot scrapings and orange peels. I'm going to make some much-needed coffee."

"Did you find the real killer?" Alexis grumbled.

"We have another person of interest," Kate explained. "We'll know more when the lab tests come back."

"So, Ashley is still a suspect?" Alexis pressed.

"Look, Alexis, whatever you think, I'm not trying to railroad your boyfriend, or anyone else, I have to follow the evidence, wherever it leads. If it leads to someone, anyone, other than Ashley, no one will be happier about that than me. When we have a suspect in custody, you will be the first call I'll make," Kate promised, sticking out her hand. "Do we have an understanding?"

Alexis grudgingly extended her own hand. "Yeah, I guess."

After Alexis departed, and he and Kate were dressed, Castle poured second cups of coffee into traveling mugs for the short journey to the Twelfth Precinct. "When do think you'll get the DNA results back from CSU?" he asked.

Kate shrugged. "I don't know, Castle. If it's just an exclusion, looking at a few markers, it may be pretty fast. If we're looking at something to be used to convict in court, the lab will be looking at more. And the lab was pretty backed up."

"I could ask Bob Wheldon to get us pushed to the front of the line," Castle said, "But I'm not sure I want to. After the way Alexis has been acting, I think it might be in her best interests to learn a little patience. I've totally lost mine."

"I could see that," Kate said. "I can remember when my father did that a couple of times. One was when I wanted to spend the summer following a grunge band. He blew his top. I'd never seen him that mad before, and it was a real shock to me. But I stayed in New York, got a job, and earned money toward my Harley."

Castle scrubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know whether to rate that as a positive or negative outcome."

"I'd call it positive," Kate responded. "I had to learn some responsibility that summer, to show up where I was supposed to be when I was supposed to be there, whether I wanted to or not. I think if Alexis knows she can't just twist Daddy around her little finger, it will do her a world of good. I know it did for me. I couldn't have followed the orders from my drill instructor at the police academy or learned what Mike Royce taught me about the streets if it hadn't happened. I probably wouldn't have made it into Stanford either."

"Are you telling me I should lose my temper with my daughter more often?" Castle asked.

Kate laid a hand on his arm. "No, that's not you, and it would lose its effect anyway. But take it from one former teenage girl from Hell, knowing that someone cares enough to lower the boom occasionally, is a good thing."

Castle blew out a deep breath. "Alright, let's go see about lowering it on the bad guys."


	37. Chapter 37

The Push

Chapter 37

Kate gazed over at Castle, who was sitting in his accustomed seat, his elbow on her desk. His hand supported his head, and his eyelids slowly drooped downward. "Castle, you're tired. Why don't you head back to the loft? So far, the boys haven't brought us anything we didn't know, except for Botts' spotty work history."

Castle yawned. "Spotty is an understatement. I didn't know someone could get fired from that many jobs. He was kicked out of work more often than I was kicked out of schools."

"Mm," Kate agreed, "but after spending a few hours with him, I doubt that either of us is surprised. I can call you when the DNA results come in."

"You're supposed to call Alexis first," Castle reminded her. "She's probably given you a special ringtone."

"Probably this," Kate replied humming the theme of The Wicked Witch of the West, from " _The Wizard of Oz._ "

"She'll change it when you collar the real murderer," Castle asserted.

"Assuming it isn't Ashley, Castle. And we don't have any hard evidence against Botts," Kate reminded him.

Kate's phone rang, and Castle pointed at it. "Maybe we do now."

Kate picked up her cell and put it on speaker. A tech reporting from CSU relayed that Ashley was excluded by the DNA found at the murder scene in the closed off part of the museum. Botts was not excluded, but his presence had not yet been confirmed to a high level of confidence. Kate thanked the tech and hung up. "Castle, what's Alexis' number?"

Grinning, Castle held up the contact listing on his phone for Kate to see.

"So, is a non-exclusion enough to bring in Botts?" Castle asked when the vibrations in the air from Alexis' squeal had died away.

"It is, but I think I'll just put a surveillance team on him until we get confirmation," Kate decided. "Non-exclusion wouldn't be enough to hold him, and I don't want to take a chance that he'll run. At least if we have a unit on him, he can't hurt anyone else. But now I'm going to agree with your daughter that you should get some rest."

"By myself?" Castle complained.

"I can come back to the loft at the end of my shift, and we can take a nap together."

Castle held up his pinky. "Swear?"

Kate linked hers with his. "Swear."

* * *

Castle could smell the delicious aromas emanating from the loft even before he made it through the door. Alexis was in the kitchen, humming loudly. "What culinary delight are you concocting?" Castle asked.

"Celebration dinner. Ashley's coming over."

"When?"

"Around six," Alexis answered cheerfully. I figure Detective Beckett will be off shift by then and we can all celebrate together. This sauce needs to simmer for a while, and I'm marinating the vegetables. You should catch a nap Dad. You've got the time."

The realization that Kate wouldn't be joining him any time soon, had already made Castle less enthusiastic about grabbing shut-eye, but he had no wish to do anything to throw cold water on Alexis' new found acceptance of Kate. "You and Detective Beckett are ganging up on me with the nap thing. I'm clearly outvoted." Castle ambled off toward the bedroom, picking up his laptop on the way, thinking he could work until Kate arrived.

* * *

"Castle," Kate called softly.

Castle's laptop, with the "You, should be writing," screen saver still flowing across the screen, slid from his thighs to the bed, as he was pulled out of a hazy dream world by the sound of Kate's voice. "What time is it? We had a pinky swear."

"Sorry Babe, I'll have to give you a rain check. It's five to six. Ashley will be here in five minutes. Alexis sent me to get you. I've been helping her set up."

"So, you two are getting along now?" Castle wondered.

"I'm not detecting any hostility, but she's on cloud nine right now, so I guess we'll just have to see what happens, but for now at least the ice princess has warmed up."

Castle pulled Kate in for a kiss. "Let's hope the heater keeps running."

Ashley arrived with two bouquets, one for Alexis, and one for Kate. "Smart boy," Castle thought to himself.

Kate's cell rang just as Alexis was dishing out key lime pie for dessert. "Castle, the team on Botts followed him back to the Nitehawk. He got into a fight with one of the patrons. They've both been brought in. Botts will be spending the next twenty-four hours in a holding cell."

"Is that the man that killed Neila Raiden?" Alexis wondered.

"He might be," Kate replied.

"So, aren't you going to go grill him?" Alexis asked.

Kate shook her head. "Not until the test results I'm waiting for come back. I can get the lab to put a rush on them now because he's in custody and the clock is ticking. If he is guilty, when I go into the interrogation room, I want to do it holding all the cards."

Alexis slapped a wedge of pie on a plate. "Just don't drop any of them."

* * *

Botts' head was bowed, and his lips moved as he prayed. His Bible had been taken from him along with all his personal effects, but he didn't need it. He knew the words. They were burned into his mind by holy fire. Hearing someone enter the room, he looked up, surprised to see Kate and Rick. "Friends! What are you doing here in my hour of ne…?" He caught sight of the badge on Kate's belt. "You two are police?"

"She's police, I'm a writer," Castle said. "I chronicle her adventures, kind of like a disciple following Jesus around."

"That's blasphemous." Botts accused.

Kate dropped into a chair opposite Botts, letting it scrape loudly on the floor as she pulled forward. "No Creflo, what's blasphemous is murdering an innocent woman. There's a commandment against that."

"I have never done anything God did not command," Botts insisted.

"And God commanded you to kill Neila Raiden?" Castle asked, sitting beside Kate.

"She was breaking his laws. She wanted to put the results of those horrible mutilations of the sacred human body on display to be admired as art! He told me I couldn't let that happen. I tried to tell her. I quoted the scripture to her. I showed it to her. She didn't believe. She told me I needed help. But God helped me. He gave me the strength to do what had to be done, to show those who wander from the way, that sin leads only to death."

"Mr. Botts, do you understand that you are confessing to murder?" Kate asked.

"It is not murder if God commands it. Murder is killing in violation of God's law. I was only doing what he commanded."

"But you do admit that you killed her?" Kate persisted.

"I followed God's will." Botts lifted his eyes skyward. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me."

"God very well may be with you," Castle said, "but so will a couple of nice police officers who will take you back to your cell."

"So, what's going to happen to him now, Kate?" Castle asked, when Botts had been led away.

"He refused counsel, Castle, so there's no one to negotiate a deal for him. I'll get Psych down here. He'll probably end up at Bellevue for a while until the court decides what to do with him. But at least he's off the streets."

"Much to the relief of museum curators and movie goers everywhere," Castle said. "But I feel sort of sorry for the guy. He really believes that he did the right thing."

"Well, maybe now he'll get the help he needs," Kate replied.

"And you get to tell Alexis you nailed Neila Raiden's killer." Castle pointed out.

"Castle, you had at least as much to do with that as I did."

"Yes. I did," Castle agreed, "and normally, I'd trumpet it to the heavens. Ooh, maybe that's not the best way to put it. But I think this time it's better if the woman I love gets all the glory."


	38. Chapter 38

The Push

Chapter 38

 _Three months later_

Josh Davidson had been knocking on Kate's door for ten minutes when a neighbor finally came out into the hall. "She's not there. She comes by to get her stuff once in a while, but she doesn't stay in that apartment anymore."

"Where is she?" Josh asked.

The woman shrugged. "I don't poke my nose in nobody's business. I just didn't want to hear you banging all night." The woman disappeared behind a closed door.

"There's one place I know you'll be, Kate," Josh muttered, heading for the stairwell, "and I'll be there too when you show up."

* * *

When Rick and Kate emerged from the elevator at the Twelfth, Kate immediately recognized the tall figure leaning against her desk. "Josh!"

"What the hell are you doing here, Davidson?" Castle demanded.

"What are you doing here, Castle?" Josh retorted. "Haven't you caused Kate enough trouble?"

"If by trouble, you mean helping her get killers off the street, not hardly," Castle responded. "Solve any murders lately, Josh?"

"Look. I just want to talk to Kate," Josh replied, "if you'd back off for a minute."

"It's all right, Babe," Kate said. "Get yourself a coffee. This won't take long."

Castle made a V with his fingers and pointed at his eyes and then Josh's, before striding off to the break room.

"Castle's not the only one watching you, man," Esposito called across the bullpen.

"Kate, can we go somewhere more private?" Josh implored.

Kate stiffened. "Here is fine. What do you want, Josh?"

"I want to see you, Kate. I'm back in New York for a while. I need to help the NGO I'm working with raise money for more clinics."

"And then you'll leave again?" Kate queried.

"There are a lot of people who need my help," Josh insisted.

"Josh, do you know it took Rick months to recover from what you did to him? That wasn't helping," Kate argued. "Look, I understand that you want to save the world or at least part of it. In my own way, so do I, but I need a partner, Josh, someone I can count on to be there for me. That's not you. I don't think it ever could be."

"I heard you call Castle, Babe. So, is he that partner? You really think the playboy writer is going to stay with you forever? Or maybe just until he moves on to his next muse?"

"Playboy writer? Rick took a bullet for me, Josh!" Kate shouted. "He's been with me through everything, no matter what happened. And not that it's any of your business, but I love him."

Esposito and Ryan approached Kate's desk. "I think you should leave now, man," Ryan told Josh.

"If you don't remember the way out, I'll give you a personal escort," Esposito added.

Josh turned silently toward the elevator.

Castle returned from the break room holding two mugs. He handed one to Kate. "Your old boyfriends do have a way of bouncing back into your life, don't they?" he noted. "First Sorenson, now Motorcycle Boy."

"Castle, you don't have to worry about that. We're partners, here and everywhere else. Always.

"Always," Castle repeated, fingering the tiny velvet covered box in his pocket. "If you really mean that, then I guess we should make it official. I was trying to figure out the perfect place to do this, but doing it here worked for Ryan and Jenny so …." Castle knelt on one knee and drew the box from his pocket. "Kate Houghton Beckett, my partner in crime busting and all other things, will you marry me?"

Kate cupped his cheek in her hand. "Richard Castle, my partner in crime busting and all other things, yes, yes I will marry you."

Applause from a sea of cops including Captain Gates, rumbled through the bullpen.

 _Three months later_

A cool September breeze blew off the ocean despite the lingering summer heat. Hundreds of chairs had been lined up on the extensive lawn of Castle's Hamptons beach house. As co-best men, Ryan and Esposito checked on the arrangements. Ryan gave final instructions to the groomsmen, Mayor Weldon and L.T., with Esposito making sure that the bar had been properly set up in an inflated dome that had been brought to the grounds for the occasion.

In the house, Lanie and Alexis, as co-maids of honor, had a last minute huddle with bridesmaids, Maddie Queller, who had also catered the affair, and Kate's cousin Sophia, who was already ensconced in Kate's former apartment. Kate stood patiently as Martha fluttered around her. "Martha, I really appreciate you taking over the duties of mother of the bride. The alterations your costume designer friend made to my mother's dress couldn't have been more perfect."

"You do look stunning, Darling," Martha responded, "but there is something else you need, well two things actually, something borrowed and something blue, but these will serve both purposes."

Kate turned to look at the open box held by her soon-to-be mother-in-law. "What? Oh, Martha, those are beautiful!"

"These earrings have been passed down in my family, one of the few things that didn't go to the pawnbroker when the carnies hit bad times," Martha explained. "They are only to be worn by women of grit and substance. My mother wore them when she married my father. I wore them at my first wedding, ill-conceived as that may have been. I never offered them to Meredith or Gina, but you should wear them, Katherine. Much as I hate to admit it, I put my son through some very tough times when he was growing up. He's had more than his share of disappointments as an adult too, some of which are my fault as well. But he is happier with you than I have even seen him in his life. And stubborn as she is, Alexis has even come to appreciate that and love you for it, as I do. So today, let them be a symbol of the love we all have for you. Oh no darling - don't cry. You're ruining your makeup. I'll just have time to fix that."

Following her attendants, Kate moved down the iris petal strewn aisle on her father's arm, to a saxophone's mellow strains of The Wedding Song. Jim Beckett delivered his daughter to the flowered arch facing the ocean, where Rick gazed at his bride in wonder. "Katherine and Richard have written their own vows," the magistrate announced, nodding at the couple. "You may begin."

Lanie handed Kate a gold band, and Kate slipped it on Castle's finger. "Rick, I was half in love with you at nineteen when you signed my Derrick Storm book, after it and the others you'd written helped me through the turmoil of my mother's death. Those feelings were tested when we met again, butting heads, but finally, miraculously, we managed to meld our minds and hearts. I can't imagine a life without you. I will be your partner, your friend, and love you, always."

Ryan handed Castle a ring for Kate. His hand trembling slightly, Rick slid it onto her slim finger. "Kate, when you walked into my book party, I was lost, adrift. I had no idea where my writing was going or where I was headed. You were the glowing beacon, the lighthouse that led me away from the rocks to solid ground. I love you more than I ever imagined I could, and that love grows richer and stronger every day. I promise to be your friend, your partner, to hold you in that love, always.

Rick's lips met Kate's, and they were one, always.

Finis

A/N This is the end of my Summer Ficathon journey, at least for 2017. There will be a new story, tomorrow. It will be an AU called "Emergence." Josh really will have left for Haiti during "Setup." See you there! Love, Sally


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